LIBRARY 

University   of   California 

IRVINE 


LOVE   AND    ROCKS 


LOVE   AND    ROCKS 


BY 

LAURA    E.    RICHARDS 

AUTHOR   OF   "  CAPTAIN   JANUARY,"  "  MELODY," 
"  FIVE-MINUTE    STORIES,"   ETC. 


BOSTON 
ESTES    AND     LAURIAT 

MDCCCXCVIII 


Copyright,  1898, 
BY  ESTHS  AND  LAURIAT. 


dolmual 

Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co. 
Boston,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 


TO 

lames  anfi  fHatn  Bnrstota 

THIS   STORY    IS    AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  MENONQUIT         .        .        .        .11 

II.  "ALL  WE  LIKE  SHEEP  — "        .      25 

III.  ON  THE  BEACH  ....      35 

IV.  THE  BLACK  WOODS   .        .        .51 
V.  SOUVENT  FEMME  VARIE     .        .      67 

VI.  THE  ROCK  HOUSE      ...       80 

VII.  "QuE  LES  BEAUX  JOURS   SONT 

COURTS  " 98 


LOVE  AND   ROCKS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

MENONQUIT. 

A  SQUARE,  gray  house,  substantial 
and  roomy,  perched  on  a  crag ;  the 
front  windows  looking  down  on  the  white, 
rock-framed  beach,  the  harbour,  and  the 
black  mass  of  Toluma  Island  opposite; 
while  the  back  windows  command  the 
village  street,  and  the  gray  fish-houses, 
with  their  pleasant  confusion  of  lobster- 
pots  and  ropes  and  boats.  This  house  is 
the  Influence,  the  oldest  house  on  Menon- 
quit  Island,  formerly  the  home  of  many  a 
stately  sea-king,  of  the  early  fishers  and 
mariners  of  Menonquit,  now  owned  and 


12  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

kept  by  Mrs.  Treherne,  the  bright-eyed 
and  cheery  descendant  of  those  kings. 
This  is  Mrs.  Treherne,  standing  on  the 
verandah  this  bright  June  morning,  and 
the  young  person  beside  her  is  Miss  Mary 
Weymouth,  who  has  come  to  spend  a  month 
on  the  island  of  her  love.  She  is  looking 
very  cross,  which  is  a  pity  for  so  pretty 
and  agreeable  a  girl.  She  has  seen  in  the 
narrow  entry  of  the  inn  a  strange  trunk 
standing  beside  her  own,  and  her  soul  is 
filled  with  bitterness. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Treherne !  You  wrote  me  that 
no  one  else  was  here.  You  know  I  told 
you  that  I  wished  positively  to  be  alone  if 
I  came." 

"  And  no  one  else  was  here,  Miss  Wey 
mouth  ! "  responded  the  landlady,  promptly. 
"  I  wrote  you  the  truth,  and  I  expected  no 
one  till  the  end  of  the  month;  but  this 
young  gentleman  came  here  all  by  himself 
last  night.  He  was  with  friends  on  board 
a  yacht,  and  got  them  to  leave  him  here. 
He  wants  to  be  alone,  too,  and  desires 


MENONQUIT.  1 3 

nothing  but  quiet.  Real  pleasant,  he 
seems!  his  name  is  — 

"  Oh,  never  mind  his  name,  Mrs.  Tre- 
herne !  I  dare  say  we  shall  not  interfere 
with  each  other.  I  suppose  I  can  have  my 
meals  alone,  can  I  ?  And  did  you  remem 
ber  the  room  I  liked  so  much  last  year?" 

"  Yes,  indeed !  "  said  Mrs.  Treherne. 
"  It  is  all  ready  for  you ;  and,  as  for 
meals,  the  gentleman  was  particular 
about  having  his  meals  an  hour  before 
every  one  else,  and  he  expects  to  live 
outdoors  most  of  the  time.  I  dare  say 
you  won't  set  eyes  on  each  other  from 
one  day  to  another." 

"  I  dare  say  not !  "  said  Miss  Weymouth. 
"  But  it  is  exasperating,  all  the  same !  "  she 
said  to  herself,  when  she  was  left  alone 
in  her  own  room,  the  corner  room  that 
looked  out  over  the  great  south  down  and 
the  sea  beyond  it. 

"I  did  think  I  could  find  solitude  on 
Menonquit  in  June.  Why  could  not  this 
stupid  person  have  been  left  on  Ma- 


14  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

tinicus,  or  at  Christmas  Cove,  or  Owl's 
Head,  or  anywhere  else  but  here  ? 

"  There  he  is  now  !  "  and  she  drew  back 
from  the  window,  taking  refuge  behind 
the  muslin  curtain. 

"  Harvard,  if  ever  I  saw  it !  Humph  ! 
Yes,  not  a  doubt  of  it.  John  Harvard, 
sir,  is  what  I  shall  call  you,  since  luckily 
I  did  not  hear  your  other  name.  Oh,  you 
tiresome  creature  !  "  She  shook  her  head 
and  retired,  as  the  young  man  came  up 
the  steps  of  the  Influence.  He  was  a 
stalwart,  broad  -  shouldered  fellow,  who 
walked  lightly  enough,  yet  set  his  feet 
down  with  weight  and  purpose.  There 
may  have  been  a  slight  Harvard  swing  to 
his  arms,  though  people  can  swing  their 
arms  elsewhere,  it  has  been  asserted. 

He  came  into  the  hall,  whistling 
"Toreador,"  his  brown  eyes  shining,  his 
face  alight  with  cheerfulness  ;  but  came  to 
a  dead  stop  before  the  two  trunks  in  the 
entry.  His  face  fell. 

"  Oh,  I  say  !  "  he  murmured.    "  I  didn't 


MENONQUIT.  15 

bargain  for  this,  you  know.  They  told 
me  there  wasn't  a  soul  on  the  island  ex 
cept  the  people  themselves." 

He  surveyed  the  peaceful  trunk  with 
profound  disgust,  which  deepened  as  he 
read  the  legend  upon  it. 

"  M.  W.,  Smith  College." 

"  I  ask  you,  is  a  person  called  upon  to 
endure  this  ?  I  wonder  at  you,  Miss 
Smith ;  yes,  I  do !  Miss  Smith  you 
shall  be  to  me.  You  probably  dislike 
the  name,  and  anything  to  give  pain,  as 
Michael  Finsbury  says.  But  to  think  of 
my  not  letting  Tom  come  ashore  with 
me,  because  I  wanted  to  try  it  alone,  and 
do  a  lot  of  thinking,  —  and  then  having 
to  foregather  with  Smith  College.  My  dear 
miss,  you  must  not  expect  it !  "  And  mut 
tering  unseemly  remarks  concerning  edu 
cational  establishments  for  women,  this 
young  gentleman  went  in  to  his  supper. 

Next  morning  the  trunks  were  gone 
from  the  entry,  and  the  young  man, 
coming  out  on  the  verandah  for  his 


1 6  LOVE    AND    ROCKS.  "'•>. 

after  -  breakfast  smoke,  had  almost  for 
gotten  the  newcomer,  till  he  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  slight  figure  in  a  short  blue 
skirt  and  jacket,  with  two  long  braids  of 
hair  hanging  down,  and  a  Tam-o'-Shanter 
cap  atop.  The  girl's  face  was  turned 
towards  him  for  an  instant  only,  but  he 
saw  that  it  was  rosy  and  youthful,  with 
a  pair  of  wide-open  blue  eyes,  and  a. 
determined  little  mouth.  He  gave  an 
inward  whistle  as  she  disappeared.  "  Six 
teen,  and  pretty !  I  looked  for  twenty- 
eight,  and  spectacled.  A  forward  chit, 
indeed,  to  be  frisking  it  alone  on  islands ; 
but  so  the  century  closes !  And,  after 
all,  there  is  no  one  for  her  to  run  away 
with,  if  she  were  so  minded." 

He  tramped  up  and  down  the  verandah, 
smoking  cheerfully,  trying  to  whistle  at 
the  same  time,  and  making  elaborate  plans 
for  an  all-day  sketching  tramp. 

Mary  Weymouth,  waiting  at  the  corner 
for  a  chance  to  slip  by  unseen  and  get 
away,  regarded  him  with  unfriendly  eyes. 


MENONQUIT.  I/ 

"  Oh,  you  stupid  !  Why  can't  you  smoke 
your  horrid  pipe  somewhere  else  ?  Block 
ing  up  the  way  like  this  !  I  wish  they  had 
a  chair  of  sense  at  Harvard !  It's  dis 
graceful  ! " 

Finally,  out  of  all  patience,  she  waited 
till  the  stranger  turned  his  back,  and  then 
fairly  ran  across  the  verandah ;  and,  as 
the  young  man  turned  again,  he  saw  her 
light  figure,  black  against  the  glowing 
sky,  flitting  over  the  hill. 

"Exeunt  pigtails!"  he  said.  "The 
child  avoids  me ;  'tis  well ! "  and  he 
waved  his  pipe  in  salutation.  "  Be  good, 
sweet  maid,  and  continue  to  shun  my 
baleful  presence — 

'  Flower  o'  the  peach  ! 
Death  for  us  all,  and  his  own  life  for  each  ! ' 

And  after  all,  one  small  girl  is  not  so 
much  matter  on  an  island  three  miles 
long." 

Mary  Weymouth,  never  looking  back, 
took  her  way  down  towards  the  south 


1 8  LOVE    AND    ROCKS.  ~'V- 

rocks.       "  Just    for    ten    minutes ! "    she 
said  to  herself.    "  Just  ten  minutes'  con 
versation  with  the  shrimps  and  crabs,  — 
then  the  yew-hollow,  and  reflection  !  " 

The  island  lay  green  and  fair  under 
the  June  sun,  ringed  with  its  black  rocks, 
which  struck  sharply  against  the  tossing 
blue  of  the  sea.  In  the  harbour,  —  if  so  . 
one  may  call  the  narrow  gut  which  lies  be-; 
tween  the  island  and  its  sister,  Toluma,  — 
the  water  was  smoother  than  outside,  and 
here  the  fishers  were  busy  in  their  boats, 
hoisting  sail  and  standing  out  to  sea; 
some  of  them  were  already  out  and  away, 
and  their  sails  shone  in  the  sun  like 
patches  of  gleaming  snow. 

Mary  Weymouth  stepped  from  rock 
to  rock,  now  singing  bits  of  sea-song, 
now  talking  to  herself.  She  was  happy. 
All  winter  she  had  longed  for  the  island. 
She  had  seen  it  last  year  for  the  first  time, 
though  its  name  had  been  familiar  all  her 
life ;  her  people  had  come  from  here,  — 
started  from  here  to  California,  far  back 


MENONQUIT.  19 

in  the  forties.  And  when  she  came,  in 
those  first  homesick  weeks  before  the  col 
lege  term  began,  and  with  it  the  new, 
strange  life,  - —  lo,  it  was  a  home  to  which 
she  came. 

All  the  stories  that  her  grandmother 
had  told  her,  all  the  wild  pictures  her 
child-mind  had  formed  of  the  lonely  is 
land,  sea-beaten  and  wind-swept,  which 
her  grandfather  left  because  he  did  not 
love  the  fishing  — 

("  But  his  heart  stayed  there,  my 
dear ! "  said  Grandmother  Weymouth. 
"  His  heart  stayed  there,  and  he  longed 
for  it  all  his  life.")- 

These  things  had  made  the  black  rocks, 
and  the  free  hilltops,  and  the  deep-bos 
omed  valleys,  welcome  her  as  their  own 
child.  She  felt  that  it  was  all  her  own, 
her  birthright,  her  heritage. 

The  island  people  were  her  friends  by 
inheritance ;  she  would  make  them  so 
by  love,  give  her  only  a  little  time  alone 
with  them.  But  for  the  strangers,  the 


2O  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

summer  visitors,  the  artists,  and  the  rare 
excursionists,  Mary  felt  a  fierce  scorn. 
She  called  it  hatred,  but  she  was  only 
twenty.  She  had  passed  them  with  head 
held  high,  and  eyes  that  saw  nothing. 
What  business  had  they  here,  on  her 
island  ?  They  had  no  graves  in  the  gray 
enclosure  on  the  lighthouse  hill.  No 
voices  called  to  them  from  cliff  and  wood 
and  vale.  Why  could  they  not  go  to  the 
Isles  of  Shoals,  or  anywhere  else,  and 
leave  her  alone  with  her  own  ? 

So  when  this  summer  came,  with  its 
great  question  to  decide,  she  had  flown 
like  a  bird  to  her  mountain,  the  very  hour 
college  closed,  feeling  sure  that  now  she 
should  have  her  island  all  to  herself,  and 
could  wander  and  think  at  her  ease. 

Well,  —  and  after  all,  —  of  course  it 
was  annoying,  but  how  was  one  young 
Harvard  sprig  to  interfere  with  her? 
Now  that  the  matter  of  the  meals  was 
settled,  and  there  was  no  actual  need  of 
their  ever  coming  in  contact,  she  could 


MENONQUIT.  21 

forget  him,  or  consider  him  in  the  light  of 
a  post. 

The  rocks  gleamed  black  and  wet 
where  the  tide  had  gone  down.  The 
little  pools  were  gay  with  green  and 
crimson  mosses,  and  alive  with  all  man 
ner  of  cheerful  inhabitants ;  below,  the 
foam  came  curling  up,  caressing,  inviting. 
How  pleasant  it  would  be  to  sit  and  dip 
one's  feet  — 

"  No !  "  said  Mary,  with  decision.  "  No ! 
I  am  going  to  the  yew-hollow.  I  said  I 
would  reflect,  and  I  will ;  and  it  would 
not  be  possible  here,  with  everything 
making  eyes  at  me  like  this." 

She  struck  upward  over  the  down  that 
heaved  its  great  shoulder  towards  the 
south  end  of  the  island.  By  and  by  she 
came  to  a  little  dell  that  lay  open  to  the 
sun,  with  the  sea  looking  in  at  one  end. 
The  bottom  was  a  plot  of  russet  grass, 
with  water  twinkling  wherever  a  sunbeam 
struck;  the  sloping  sides  were  covered 
with  a  dense  mat  of  trailing  yew.  Mary 


22  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

threw  herself  down  on  the  elastic  bed, 
and  inhaled  its  fragrance  with  deep 
breaths. 

"  Oh,  good !  Oh,  native  !  "  she  cried. 
"  I  was  born  here,  one  of  me.  Just  smell 
it,  will  you  ?  And  taste  !  "  she  added, 
plucking  one  of  the  gray-blue  berries,  and 
crushing  it  between  her  teeth. 

"  Talk  of  the  almond  and  rose  of  Da- 
mascus  !  H'm  !  Let  them  come  here ! 
No !  Let  them  stay  away,  I  mean.  And 
now,  let  me  think  !  " 

The  question  of  a  career  !  What  should 
she  do  with  her  life  ?  It  lay  before  her, 
as  the  sea  lay  here ;  these  gates  of  green, 
with  the  blue  shining  beyond  them,  were 
the  gates  of  womanhood  opening  before 
her.  Yes !  she  must  decide  now,  and 
shape  the  three  years  of  college  yet  re 
maining  to  fit  the  future  towards  which 
she  looked.  That  was  why  she  had  come 
here  to  the  island ;  to  be  alone,  to  think 
and  to  plan.  Yes  ! 

How  blue  the  sea  !     Was  that  the  mail 


MENONQUIT.  23 

schooner,  just  in  sight?  The  Captain 
ought  to  have  had  a  great  "  chance," 
such  a  morning  as  this. 

Literature  !  There  was  a  field  !  One 
of  the  greatest  in  the  world.  And  talk 
ing  of  fields,  that  green  knoll  where  she 
had  seen  the  sheep  huddled  together 
this  morning  would  be  a  lovely  place 
to  sit  in ! 

Literature  !  —  or  medicine  !  Only  one 
didn't  like  drugs,  and  they  were  finding  out 
such  horrible  things  every  day.  One  could 
no  longer  enjoy  the  privacy  of  one's  own 
bones.  And  talking  of  drugs,  was  there 
any  drug  or  spice  so  sweet  as  this  yew  ? 
Could  not  some  wonderful  balsam  be  made 
from  it  that  should  cure  all  diseases,  nerves 
and  things  ?  "  And  there  came  no  more 
any  such  spices  as  the  Queen  of  Sheba 
brought  to  King  Solomon."  This  might 
be  Balsam  of  Sheba,  or  Solomon's 
Strength,  or  —  anything  —  alliterative. 

The  sun  beat  down  on  the  yew  bed, 
and  fresh  puffs  of  warm  perfume  crept 


24  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

from  it.  The  scent  was  going  to  her 
head  !  Perfumes  used  to  poison, —  did 
they  intoxicate  first  ?  The  sun  was  very 
warm  —  literature  —  a  great  field  —  full 
of  brown  grass  —  and  yew  — 

Silence  !  The  sea  lapping  on  the  crags 
below.  The  girl  asleep  under  the  summer 
blue,  white  gulls  wheeling  above,  white 
clouds  floating, —  silence  ! 

"  Literature  !  "  said  Mary  again,  sitting 
up  straight  and  looking  about  her  wide- 
eyed. 

A  new  fragrance  was  in  her  nostrils  ;  a 
faint  blue  smoke  hung  near  her  in  curling, 
fading    rings  ;  was    it  —  could    it   be  — 
tobacco  smoke  ? 

And  just  beyond  the  seaward  end  of 
the  dell,  a  loose  stone  rolled  from  under  a 
hasty  foot,  and  went  dropping  down  from 
ledge  to  ledge  till  it  plunged  in  the  water. 
Then  silence  again. 

"  Impertinence ! "  said  Mary  Wey- 
mouth. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  ALL    WE    LIKE   SHEEP  — " 

IT  is  difficult  to  do  much  deep  thinking 
when  one  is  exploring  the  country  of 
one's  heart.  Mary  Weymouth  started  out 
every  morning  with  her  heart  full  of  cour 
age  and  her  head  full  of  ideas  ;  she  came 
back  at  night  rosy,  happy-eyed,  uncon 
scious  of  anything  save  the  sea  and  the 
rocks,  the  rocks  and  the  sea. 

To-day,  for  example,  she  was  deter 
mined  to  consider  the  subject  of  education 
as  a  profession.  Learning  should  be  her 
comrade,  and  she  would  think  from  morn 
ing  till  night  of  a  teacher's  life ;  put  her 
self  into  it  as  into  a  frame,  and  look  at 
herself.  After  all,  what  could  be  more 
useful  than  teaching,  and  for  what  could 
she  so  well  fit  herself  ? 


26  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

Starting  out,  she  met  the  children  of 
the  village  on  their  way  to  school ;  and 
full  of  pleasure  and  friendly  impulse,  she 
stopped  to  exchange  greetings  with  them. 
Some  of  the  children  replied  cheerfully, 
others  hung  their  heads  and  put  fingers  in 
their  mouths,  while  others  still  fairly  ran 
away  when  she  asked  how  they  liked  their 
school  and  what  were  their  favourite  les 
sons. 

She  would  change  all  that,  if  she  taught 
children  ;  and  she  shook  her  head  gravely 
as  she  climbed  the  hill.  Her  pupils  should 
learn  from  the  first  to  be  gracious,  courte 
ous  to  strangers,  full  of  smiles  and  cor 
diality.  Perhaps  she  might  better  begin 
the  day  by  going  to  the  school,  talking 
with  the  teacher,  perhaps  suggesting  to 
her  these  ideas.  No !  On  the  whole,  the 
afternoon  would  do  as  well,  and  it  would 
be  wicked  to  spend  such  a  morning  as 
this  within  four  walls. 

Graciousness  !  It  was  a  duty  that  every 
one  owed  to  his  fellow  beings  —  here  the 


"ALL    WE    LIKE    SHEEP "         2/ 

young  lady  looked  up,  and  saw  coming 
towards  her  the  fellow  being  who  was  also 
her  fellow  lodger ;  and  she  turned  off  into 
the  field,  and  almost  ran  up  the  hillside, 
over  the  brow,  into  the  hollow  beyond. 

Seated  on  a  comfortable  boulder,  she 
reflected,  and  became  aware  of  inconsist 
ency  in  her  behaviour.  Graciousness  !  It 
was  a  duty  that  every  one  owed  — 

"  Oh  !  I  can't  help  it  !  "  she  said,  shrug 
ging  her  shoulders.  "  I  must  be  allowed 
to  live ! "  and  then  she  looked  about  her, 
and  the  place  possessed  her. 

The  rocks  ran  in  long,  gray  ridges, 
climbing  up  here  and  there  into  pinnacles 
and  cairns.  Between  the  ridges  the  grass 
was  green  as  emerald,  and  water  trickled 
everywhere  in  silent  rills,  or  stood  in  pools 
to  catch  the  sky.  Wherever  the  green 
was  broken,  the  soil  showed  black  and 
rich  like  peat. 

Old,  twisted  firs  stood  here  and  there, 
like  crabbed  green  dwarfs,  guarding  the 
fairy  hollows.  "  I  was  born  here  !  "  cried 


28  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

Mary,  spreading  her  arms  wide  to  clasp 
the  brightness  and  the  beauty  of  it.  Then 
she  stepped  along  from  tuft  to  tuft  of  long 
grass,  feeling  the  water  pleasantly  cool 
through  her  canvas  shoes.  Presently 
she  came  to  where  a  granite  ridge  had 
been  rent  apart,  and  formed  a  gateway ; 
she  passed  through  this,  and  found  her 
self  in  a  pretty  place  indeed. 

The  gray  rocks  shut  in  a  space  some 
twenty  feet  across  either  way ;  the  grass 
was  firm  and  short  and  green,  —  how 
green  !  That  was  all,  —  grass  and  granite, 
and  a  sky  burning  blue  overhead ;  but 
the  rocks  huddled  together  in  all  possible 
shapes,  quaint  or  solemn,  and  here  and 
there  were  clefts  between  them,  running 
back  into  blackness,  suggestive  of  all 
manner  of  delightful  mystery. 

One  such  cleft  invited  Mary  to  explore 
it.  The  entrance  was  low,  and  she  must 
creep  in  on  hands  and  knees;  but  once 
inside  she  could  sit  upright,  and  fancy 
herself  a  fair  anchorite  in  a  cell  of  the 


"ALL    WE    LIKE    SHEEP—  2Q 

Thebaid,  studying  the  question  of  edu 
cation. 

"  It  smells  a  little  sheepy,"  she  said, 
"  and  it  might  be  convenient  to  stand  up 
or  turn  round  once  in  a  while,  —  say  every 
seven  years  or  so,  —  but  on  the  whole  an 
enchanting  place !  I  can  certainly  medi 
tate  here,  for  there  is  nothing  to  capture 
the  eyes,  —  only  good,  solid  stone  wall,  and 
the  peep  of  blue  and  green  outside.  Now 
I  will  think  about  education  in  good  ear 
nest.  Gracious  !  What  is  that  ? " 

She  listened  and  looked,  and  looking, 
felt  her  blood  turn  slowly  to  ice. 

Into  the  little  rock-parlour  from  which 
she  had  just  retreated  stepped  an  active 
figure  that  Mary  already  knew  too  well. 
Pipe  in  mouth,  sketching  tools  in  hand, 
—  humming  "Toreador"  through  his 
teeth,  —  John  Harvard  came !  Oh,  dis 
traction  !  oh,  horror !  the  hateful,  odi 
ous  man  !  he  was  sitting  down,  —  he  was 
opening  his  sketch-book,  —  he  was  actu 
ally  establishing  himself  for  the  morning ! 


3O  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

Seated  with  his  back  turned  squarely 
to  the  cave,  facing  the  entrance  of  the 
rock-parlour,  the  young  man  drew  a  deep 
breath  of  satisfaction,  and  addressed  the 
universe.  "  Comfortable  ?  Yes,  thank  you  ! 
I  do  believe  this  the  prettiest  bit  I  have 
found  yet.  No  vile  humanity  to  disturb 
the  fantastic  pannicles  !  "  And  he  fell  to 
sketching,  with  ardour,  the  entrancing 
view  framed  by  the  stony  gates;  the 
black  fir  that  leaned  across,  the  shimmer 
ing  foreground,  the  living  blue  beyond. 

What  was  to  be  done?  The  ice  in 
Mary's  veins  melted,  glowed,  turned  to 
liquid  fire.  If  she  could  only  rush  out, 
with  a  shriek  that  should  paralyse  him, 
should  prevent  him  from  turning  round ; 
rush  out,  and  past  him,  and  away !  But 
there  was  to  be  no  rushing.  She  had 
crept  in  forwards,  she  must  creep  out 
backwards,  on  her  hands  and  knees. 
Well,  she  would  not  do  that !  She  would 
sooner  die  in  the  cave  ! 

This    being   settled,    Miss   Weymouth 


"ALL    WE    LIKE    SHEEP 3! 

became  aware  of  cramps  in  her  foot ; 
she  was  sitting  with  it  doubled  up  under 
her,  for  there  was  not  room  to  stretch 
both  feet  out.  She  remembered  reading 
how  an  actress,  —  Miss  Cushman,  was 
it  ?  —  to  help  her  sister,  smitten  with 
stage-fright,  crouched  motionless  in  one 
position  for  half  an  hour.  Oh,  well,  but 
if  you  came  to  that,  there  were  the  In 
dian  fakirs,  who  held  their  arms  up 
straight  till  they  stiffened.  Oh  !  —  oh  ! 
but  Mary  was  not  a  fakir.  Slowly  and 
cautiously  she  drew  her  foot  out ;  it 
struck  a  pebble,  and  sent  it  rattling  to 
the  entrance.  She  held  her  breath ;  but 
the  sketcher  took  no  notice. 

"  To  —  re  —  ador !  "  he  sang  abstract 
edly,  mixing  shades  of  blue,  with  one  eye 
on  the  horizon.  Mary  noticed  that  he 
had  a  delightful  voice,  and  hated  him 
the  more  for  it. 

"  Oh,  you  goose !  why  can't  you  go  out 
of  the  door?"  she  muttered  under  her 
breath. 


32  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

It  was  her  back  now ;  the  rock  was 
sticking  into  it,  hard  and  knobby.  The 
smell  of  sheep  grew  stronger.  Oh !  why, 
why  had  she  ever  got  into  this  dreadful 
little  hole?  She  could  not  stay  here  all 
the  morning  ;  she  should  die  ! 

How  long  had  she  been  here  now  ?  It 
seemed  hours.  If  she  could  only  sleep  ! 
She  shut  her  eyes,  and  repeated  Shelley's 
"  Hymn  to  Night,"  as  she  had  been  ad- 
vised  to  do  when  her  nerves  required 
soothing.  Then  she  parodied  it : 

"  Swiftly  walk  into  the  western  wave, 

Hideous  fright ! 

Off  from  the  entrance  of  this  cave, 
Where  all  the  long  and  lone  daylight 
Thou  keepest  me  a  prisoner  here, 
In  sheepy  dungeon,  dark  and  drear,  — 
Swift  be  thy  flight." 

But  sleep  did  not  come,  and  the  aches 
grew  and  multiplied ;  and  at  length  it 
came  over  Mary  that  she  could  not  bear 
the  situation  any  longer.  She  must  come 
out ;  she  did  not  care  what  happened. 


"ALL    WE    LIKE    SHEEP—  33 

Softly,  slowly  she  began  to  move  back 
ward  towards  the  mouth  of  the  cavern. 
If  she  could  only  get  out,  get  upright  on 
her  feet  before  he  turned  round !  Vain 
hope  !  Another  pebble  rattled  and  rolled, 
—  another ! 

"Hallo!"  said  John  Harvard.  He 
turned,  and  his  bright,  dark  eyes  looked 
directly  into  the  cave. 

"  Something  in  there  !  Sheep  !  Come 
out,  sheep !  Come  out,  I  say ! "  He  was 
looking  about  for  a  stone  to  throw,  with 
a  view  to  dislodging  the  intruder,  when 
a  voice  came  from  the  depths,  icy  and 
tremulous  : 

"  Do  not  —  throw  stones !  I  —  am  com 
ing  out ! " 

The  voice  broke  off  suddenly ;  the 
young  man  did  not  hear  the  sob,  but  he 
felt  it.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  pulled 
off  his  cap,  keeping  his  back  carefully 
turned  to  the  cave. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  !  "  he  said.  "  I'm 
awfully  sorry  !  You  —  you  are  sure  you 
don't  need  any  help  ? " 


34  LOVE    AND    ROCKS.  ~'v 

Mary  tried  to  say,  "  No,  thank  you ! " 
but  the  words  would  not  come  out 
straight.  She  crept  out,  the  pebbles 
rolling  to  right  and  left,  scrambled  to 
her  feet  and  turned  to  flee;  but  in  the 
rocky  gateway  she  paused.  Her  breath 
was  coming  painfully  short  and  quick, 
but  she  pulled  herself  together,  and  said, 
with  tolerable  distinctness,  "  I  thank  you,, 
—  sir,  —  for  your  considerateness." 

"  May  I  turn  round  now  ? "  asked  John 
Harvard,  meekly. 

"  Oh,  of  course  you  may  !  "  cried  Mary, 
angrily.  "  Good-morning  ! " 

He  turned  quickly,  but  not  quickly 
enough ;  the  last  fold  of  a  blue  skirt 
fluttered  and  vanished.  Hasty  feet  fled 
away  over  the  down  towards  the  shore. 

"  Miss  Smith,"  said  John  Harvard,  "  / 
call  that  a  scurvy  trick ! " 


CHAPTER   III. 

ON    THE    BEACH. 

FOR  some  time  after  this  Mary  lived 
in  peace.  She  had  no  further 
trouble  from  her  fellow  lodger.  Per 
haps  he  was  exploring  the  further  end 
of  the  island;  at  all  events,  he  came  no 
more  to  her  favourite  haunts.  Only  in  the 
evening  she  would  hear  his  springing  step 
and  his  cheery  whistle,  as  he  came  run 
ning  up  the  steps  and  passed  through 
the  narrow  entry  on  his  way  to  the  dining- 
room.  He  never  so  much  as  looked  in  at 
the  parlour  door ;  and  being  thus  safe 
from  annoyance,  Mary  gradually  got  into 
the  way  of  listening  for  the  whistle  and 
the  light,  firm  tread.  He  was  a  punctual 


36  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

creature,  she  acknowledged  ;  really  almost 
as  good  as  a  clock.  One  night,  it  is  true, 
she  was  very  angry,  because  he  stood 
under  her  window  and  sang  for  an  hour. 
It  was  full  moon ;  he  stood  by  the  ve 
randah  rail,  and  certainly  he  was  very, 
good-looking,  —  and  graceful,  —  and  his 
voice  was  enchanting.  Still,  it  was  im 
pertinent  ;  not  that  she  really  supposed 
he  was  audacious  enough  to  fancy  that  she 
was  listening  to  him,  but  still,  —  even  the 
proximity  to  her  window,  and  the  absence 
of  any  one  but  herself  to  whom  he  could 
sing,  —  in  short,  it  was  an  impertinence, 
and  Mary  was  furious.  She  did  not  go  to 
bed  very  early,  —  it  was  full  moon,  as  I 
said,  and  the  glory  of  it  unspeakable ;  and 
when  she  did,  all  was  silent  except  the 
sea,  and  the  last  song  was  ringing  in  her 
ears.  It  had  a  quaint  little  refrain,  evi 
dently  a  song  of  Stuart  times,  Mary 
thought.  She  was  rather  well  up  in 
Stuart  songs ;  she  had  taken  a  course  in 
them  this  very  year. 


ON    THE    BEACH.  37 

"  Oh,  it's  never  yet  the  blade  I  met 
Could  prick  to  bring  me  pain. 

Oh,  it's  never  yet  the  maid  I  met 
I  sighed  to  meet  again. 

Then  it's  hey  !  for  a  horse ! 

A  hound  and  a  horse  ! 

And  over  the  hills  away. 

For  he  who'd  seek 

A  velvet  cheek, 

He  rides  not  with  me  to-day." 

When  Mary  came  down  the  next  morn 
ing,  she  was  still  in  a  fine  little  glow  of 
indignation,  she  did  not  know  exactly  at 
what.  Mrs.  Treherne  greeted  her  with 
a  corresponding  glow  of  delight. 

"  Well  now,  Miss  Weymouth,"  she  said, 
"  it  is  a  thousand  pities  you  didn't  hear 
my  concert  last  night." 

"  Your  concert  ? "  repeated  Mary. 

"  Yes,  all  my  own  ! "  said  the  good 
landlady,  beaming.  "  'Twas  while  you 
were  down  to  Cap'n  Avery's,  I  expect. 
The  other  boarder,  he  sat  out  on  the 
porch  and  sung  to  me,  as  much  as  an 
hour.  Oh,  there !  he  does  sing  beauti- 


38  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

~" 

ful !  You  might  go  to  a  dozen  concerts, 
and  not  hear  anything  as  much  to  my 
mind.  I  sat  inside  the  door,  —  I  don't 
dare  to  sit  right  out  in  the  air,  for  fear  of 
rheumatism,  —  and  he  stood  there  by  the 
rail,  and — well,  it  was  like  a  bird  and  an 
organ,  both  together.  There  !  I  did  wish 
you  were  where  you  could  have  opportu 
nity  to  hear  too !  How  quiet  you  came 
in !  I  never  heard  a  sound.  But  you're 
always  quiet." 

"  Thank  you  ! "  said  Mary.  "  Ap 
parently  you  would  like  me  better  if  I 
were  noisy,  Mrs.  Treherne." 

"  Now,  how  quick  you  are  !  "  said  Mrs. 
Treherne. 

But  except  for  this  little  flutter,  Mary 
was  now  very  happy.  The  people  of 
the  village,  finding  that  she  was  one  of 
themselves,  by  descent  at  least,  took  her 
into  their  hearts  and  homes.  Many  a 
happy  hour  she  spent  sitting  on  an  up 
turned  boat  with  Captain  Simon  or  Cap 
tain  Price,  listening  to  wild  tales  of  storm 


ON    THE    BEACH.  39 

and  shipwreck,  or  to  quieter  stories  of 
life  on  the  island.  The  fishermen's 
wives,  too,  made  her  kindly  welcome  to 
their  firesides.  There  was  always  a  baby 
she  could  hold,  or  a  skein  of  yarn  to 
wind,  or  quilt  pieces  to  sort ;  and  sitting 
thus,  she  learned  the  story  of  many  a 
brave,  faithful  life.  She  made  the  ac 
quaintance  of  the  Oldest  Inhabitant,  a 
sweet  and  gracious  woman,  crowned  with 
all  the  beauty  of  age ;  and  from  her  and 
Mrs.  Treherne,  always  her  good  friend, 
she  learned  to  know  her  own  forebears 
as  she  could  not  have  known  them  else 
where  than  in  this  home  where  they  had 
toiled,  and  struggled,  and  died. 

But  still,  best  of  all,  she  loved  to 
wander  alone  over  the  windy  hills,  and 
climb  among  the  fantastic  rocks,  and  sit 
beside  the  clamorous  sea.  And  she  was 
at  home  everywhere,  and  everywhere 
happy. 

One  morning,  quite  early,  she  was  sit 
ting  beside  Captain  Price,  watching  the 


4O  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

mending  of  his  boat,  and  knitting  a  sock 
for  Mrs.  Price's  new  baby.  They  talked 
of  the  island,  as  usual ;  there  was  no 
other  subject  for  Mary  in  these  days. 

"  There's  good  folks  on  the  island ! " 
Captain  Price  said,  as  he  whittled  pegs. 
"  Take  'em  by  and  large,  they  are  good 
folks.  Different,  of  course,  different,  — 
no  two  alike  in  the  Lord's  fish-nets,  — 
but  take  what  I  see  over  on  the  main, 
—  I've  been  about  consid'able,  —  and 
what  I  see  here,  and  give  me  the  island 
every  time.  None  of  your  pork  and  sun 
set  fellows  here." 

"  Captain  Price,  what  do  you  mean  ? " 
asked  Mary.  "  Pork  and  sunset  ? " 

"Well,  it's  an  expression,  Miss  Wey- 
mouth,"  responded  the  Captain,  slowly. 
"  It's  not  an  elegant  expression ;  maybe  I 
shouldn't  have  used  it,  speaking  to  a 
lady,  but  it  means  something  like  this  : 
Over  on  the  main,  you  go  into  a  factory, 
say ;  and  you  see  a  lot  of  fellows  working 
away,  and  most  of  'em's  working  good, 


ON    THE    BEACH.  4! 

and  laying  down  and  doing  their  durn  — 
doing  the  best  they  know  how.  That's  so, 
ain't  it,  here  in  New  England  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  "  said  Mary,  heartily. 
"  I  am  sure  it  is,  Captain  Price." 

"  Well,  I  observed  so  !  "  returned  the 
Captain.  "  That's  where  my  observa 
tions  brought  me  to,  in  general.  But 
here  and  there,  in  that  same  lot,  you'll 
see  one  fellow,  —  pity  if  there  should  be 
two  in  one  gang,  — -  you'll  see  one  who 
keeps  settin'  back  from  his  work,  and  all 
the  time  reason  good  to  give  for  it.  He 
has  to  get  a  drink  —  you'd  think  they 
was  fish,  sometimes,  —  though  any  one  on 
this  island  would  heave  'em  back  into 
the  water,  —  the  way  they  drink.  Or  he 
wants  to  know  what  o'clock  it  is,  or  he's 
got  a  stitch  in  his  back,  or  something  or 
other.  Whatever  excuse  he  can  get  up, 
that  man  is  always  settin'  back,  and  wait- 
in'  for  the  whistle  to  blow  noon,  and  then 
for  it  to  blow  night.  All  he  wants  is  to 
stop  off  work ;  and  that  man  is  spotted 


42  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

by  the  other  men,  and  they  call  him  a 
pork  and  sunset  man.  That  means  he 
ain't  no  good.  Well,  what  I  say  is,  we 
have  none  of  that  sort  on  this  island, 
Miss  Weymouth,  and  we  don't  want  any." 

"  I  should  think  not !  "  said  Mary,  smil 
ing. 

"  Then,  —  "  the  Captain  went  on,  sight 
ing  carefully  along  his  peg, — "then  there's 
the  summer  folks."  He  paused  with  a 
side  glance  at  the  young  girl. 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  mind,  Captain 
Price  !  "  cried  Mary,  eagerly.  "  I  am  not 
a  summer  person,  you  know ;  nothing  of 
the  sort !  I  belong  to  the  island,  just  as 
much  as  if  I  had  been  born  here." 

"  That  so  ? "  said  the  Captain,  with  a 
slow,  gratified  smile.  "  Well,  I'm  pleased 
to  hear  ye  say  so.  It's  an  honour  to  the 
island  ;  or  so  I  consider  it.  But  these 
summer  folks,  now,"  -—  he  waved  his  hand 
towards  a  shadowy  host,  —  Mary  could 
almost  see  them  trooping  up  from  the 
schooner,  with  groans  over  their  "  bad 


ON    THE    BEACH.  43 

chance  "  coming  over, —  "  I  don't  hardly 
see  what  some  of  'em  come  here  for.  Of 
course,  there's  those  that  every  one  on 
the  island  is  glad  to  see,  and  sorry  to  see 
go,  and  hoping  they'll  come  again.  But 
the  other  kind,  —  who  come  to  see  some 
kind  of  show,  it  appears  as  if,  —  I  have 
no  desire  for  their  acquaintance,  Miss 
Weymouth,  and  I  should  be  free  to  tell 
them  so,  if  manners  allowed.  It's  not 
agreeable  for  folks  that  have  lived  here 
all  their  days,  and  done  as  best  was  give 
them  to  know  how,  —  it's  not  agreeable 
to  be  looked  at  as  if  they  was  some  kind 
of  Injun,  or  fust  cousin  to  a  moose.  Now 
is  it  ?  " 

Mary  shook  her  head  vehemently,  and 
would  have  spoken,  but  the  Captain  went 
on  with  another  wave  of  his  hand. 

"Go  over  to  the  main  there,  and 
nobody  takes  notice  of  ye,  more'n  of 
another  person.  No  horns,  or  tails,  as  I 
know  of,  to  an  island  man  ;  pass  in  the 
crowd  for  a  real  person,  every  time.  But 


44  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

come  over  here,  and  they  stare  at  ye  as  if 
they  expected  ye  to  be  blue.  Perhaps  'tis 
because  they  are  green  !  "  he  added,  with 
a  chuckle.  "  Now,  they  was  a  young  man 
come  here  last  summer.  Green  ?  why, 
grass  was  yeller  beside  him.  He  come 
here,  and  he  was  sea-sick,  and  home-sick, 
and  love-sick,  all  three  together." 

"  Poor  thing  !  "  cried  Mary.  "  How 
pitiful  ! " 

"  Well,  that  is  the  word,  Miss  Wey- 
mouth  !  "  said  the  Captain.  "  Pitiful  he 
was ;  and  took  a  lot  of  photographs,  and 
tried  to  make  up  to  Susetta  Harlan. 
Wrote  poetry,  I'm  told,  about  an  island 
maiden.  Why,  he  didn't  know  one  end 
of  a  fish  from  the  other,  Susetta  said ;  and 
asked  her  if  a  cod's  sounds  were  melodi 
ous  !  Well,  there's  all  kinds  !  "  He  medi 
tated  for  a  moment,  then,  brightening  up, 
added : 

"  That's  a  very  different  sort  of  young 
man  you've  got  down  to  Mis'  Treherne's, 
now.  There's  what  I  call  a  gentleman,  if 


ON    THE    BEACH.  45 

I  see  him  carrying  a  hod  on  a  ladder. 
Chock  full  of  sense,  with  an  eye  in  his 
head ;  and  so  pleasant,  you  feel  like 
'  hurrah  boys  ! '  every  time  you  hear  him 
speak.  And  understands  a  boat." 

On  this  final  word  he  paused.  "  There 
was  na  moore  to  say  !  " 

Mary  saw  that  a  reply  was  expected 
from  her. 

"  Oh  —  yes  !  "  she  said,  hastily.  "  That 
is,  I  hardly  know  —  but,  Captain  Price,  I 
should  think  you  would  be  jealous  of 
every  one  who  comes  here.  Why,  I  hate 
them,  myself,  and  I  have  only  been  here 
a  few  weeks;  but  it  seems  half  a  life 
time,  and  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of 
going  away.  How  can  you  ever  bear  to 
go  to  the  main,  —  to  go  inland,  and  lose 
sight  of  the  sea?  I  should  think  you 
would  stifle  for  want  of  your  own  air." 

The  Captain  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"  Maybe  you  are  right,  Miss  Wey- 
mouth,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  but  we  don't 
always  feel  that  way  ourselves.  It's  dif- 


46  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

ferent,  you  see,  coming  for  a  spell,  from 
what  it  is  to  summer  and  winter  right 
along.  Why,  I  remember  a  time  —  good 
many  years  ago  'tis  now  —  when  I  got 
downright  sick  of  the  island,  and  the  sea, 
and  the  whole  thing  of  it.  I  suppose 
likely  I  wasn't  over  and  above  well ;  any 
how,  it  come  over  me  strong  that  I'd  had 
enough  sea  for  one  spell.  Seemed  to  me 
that  if  I  could  only  get  away  off  up  coun 
try  somewheres,  out  of  sight  and  sound  of 
it,  and  lay  under  an  apple-tree  and  eat 
apples, —  all  the  apples  I  wanted,  —  it 
seemed  to  me  that  would  be  about  as  near 
heaven  as  I  could  imagine  this  side  of 
Jordan." 

"  Oh  ! "  cried  Mary.  "  Oh,  how  strange  ! 
And  did  you  go,  Captain  Price  ? " 

"I  went,"  said  the  Captain,  nodding 
with  deliberate  emphasis.  "  I  went  over 
to  the  main,  and  I  went  up  country  quite 
a  ways,  and  hired  out  to  a  farmer.  Well ! 
'twas  a  place  shut  in  like  a  box,  with 
mountings  all  round  it ;  over  Camden 


ON    THE    BEACH.  47 

way,  but  inland,  you  see.  The  man  was 
as  close  as  a  hungry  lobster.  We  lived 
on  salt  fish  that  wouldn't  be  given  to  no 
island  pig  that  was  desired  to  fatten.  I 
never  see  a  pound  of  fresh  fish  while 
I  was  there.  Rank  fish,  and  pork  —  and 
no  sunset,"  he  added,  with  a  twinkle,  "  be 
cause  of  it's  being  shut  off  by  the  mount 
ings.  It  was  a  terrible  place." 

"  And  the  apples  !  "  cried  Mary.  "  Did 
you  have  the  apples,  all  you  wanted  ? " 

The  Captain  laughed  again,  his  short, 
dry  laugh. 

"  The  apples  were  green  when  I  went 
there,"  he  said ;  "  and  green  apples  never 
suited  my  internal  legislature.  Soon  as  I 
saw  one  that  looked  friendly,  I  ate  it ; 
and  he  saw  me,  and  threatened  to  put  me 
in  jail  if  he  caught  me  with  another." 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  the  miserable  wretch  !  And 
then,  Captain  ? " 

"  I  went  away  next  day,"  said  the  Cap 
tain.  "  I  went  and  bought  a  peck  of 
apples  of  the  man  on  the  next  farm,  and 


48  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

came  and  sat  down  on  the  old  man's  fence 
and  ate  'em,  and  threw  the  cores  into  his 
dooryard.  He  was  proper  mad,  but  he 
didn't  dare  to  say  anything,  for  he  knew 
I  was  mad  too,  fighting  mad.  Then  I 
came  back  to  the  island.  I'd  had  enough 
of  the  main  for  one  while." 

They  were  silent  for  a  moment,  each 
enjoying  the  story  in  his  own  way.  Then 
the  old  man  said : 

"  And  you  do  feel  to  regard  the  island 
as  your  belonging  to  it  ?  Now  that  is  a 
pleasant  thing,  surely  !  That  gives  pleas 
ure —  to  the  mind.  And  you've  been 
about,  pretty  much  nigh  all  over  it,  have 
ye  ?  Have  you  been  in  the  Black  Woods, 
I  wonder  ? " 

No,  Mary  had  not  heard  of  the  Black 
Woods.  Where  were  they,  that  she  might 
find  them  at  once,  this  morning,  this 
moment  ? 

Captain  Price  laid  his  pipe  beside  his 
jack-knife,  pulled  out  a  bit  of  string,  and 
made  an  elaborate  chart  of  the  island. 


ON    THE    BEACH.  49 

"  'Tis  quite  a  piece  on  from  here !  "  he 
said.  "  You  have  to  go  round  the  big  bog, 
remember;  you  couldn't  get  through  it, 
no  way  in  the  world." 

"  I  see  !  I  understand !  "  cried  Mary,  her 
eyes  shining  with  the  joy  of  the  explorer. 
"  Here  I  strike  off  to  the  northeast ;  yes, 
I  am  sure  I  can  find  the  way." 

"  I  don't  hardly  know !  "  said  the  Cap 
tain.  "  I  don't  hardly  know  as  you'd 
better  try  it  alone,  young  lady.  The 
woods  are  thick,  mighty  thick.  We  can't 
have  you  getting  lost,  you  know.  That 
would  never  do !  Suppose  you  wait  and 
let  me  go  with  you,  when  this  rheumatism 
lets  up  a  little  in  my  joints  !  " 

Mary  thanked  him,  and  said  that  would 
be  delightful.  Then  suddenly  recollecting 
some  important  business  that  must  take 
her  directly  back  to  the  Influence,  she 
bade  the  Captain  good-by,  and  thanked 
him  so  prettily  for  all  the  pleasant  things 
he  had  told  her,  that  she  left  the  good 
man  in  a  little  glow  of  pleasure.  He 


5<D  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

watched  her  as  she  took  her  way  up  the 
beach,  noting  her  light  step  and  the  pretty 
way  she  carried  her  head.  "  That's  what 
I  call  a  lady ! "  said  the  Captain  to  his 
pipe. 

In  less  than  an  hour  Mary  was  on  her 
way  to  the  Black  Woods. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE    BLACK    WOODS. 

MARY  went  by  dale  and  down,  her 
heart  full  of  joy.  She  was  to  find 
a  new  place,  one  whose  existence  she  had 
not  suspected.  She  had  gone  around  the 
island  on  the  rocks,  and  across  it  over 
the  hills,  but  this  place,  as  the  Captain 
described  it,  lay  hidden  behind  a  high 
shoulder  that  she  had  not  yet  climbed. 
She  had  always  been  stopped  by  the  great 
moss,  the  quaking  bog  that  spread  its 
broad,  treacherous  surface  of  tufted  green 
well-nigh  across  the  middle  of  the  island. 
She  had  not  known  of  this  way  round; 
now  she  was  sure  of  her  path,  and  she 
trod  on  air.  But  when  she  came  near, 
and  left  the  green,  smiling  meadow,  and 
saw  the  woods  rising  before  her  black 


52  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

" 

and  grim,  her  face  grew  grave,  and  the 
little  song  died  on  her  lips.  This  was  no 
place  to  laugh  about ! 

Spruce  and  fir,  fir  and  spruce,  knotted 
and  tangled  and  twisted  together  in  dense 
masses.  The  trees  never  of  great  height, 
but  often  of  enormous  girth,  stunted  giants, 
reaching  out  massive,  distorted  limbs  to 
lock  with  their  neighbours'.  Every  tree 
was  bearded  with  moss,  and  crusted  thick 
with  black  and  gray  lichens.  Here  and 
there  was  a  dead  one,  bleached  and  naked, 
unable  to  fall,  the  stark  form  held  upright 
by  the  close  ranks  of  the  living. 

An  awful  place,  Mary  thought;  but 
how  beautiful !  how  unearthly  lovely ! 
The  rocks  thrust  themselves  up  through 
the  thin  soil  in  fantastic  shapes,  the 
gnomes  that  watched  the  hidden  treas 
ures  of  this  fairy  forest ;  and  they  were 
clad  in  the  fairies'  fatal  green,  moss  so 
rich  and  so  delicate  that  Mary  could  not 
find  words  for  it,  could  only  stroke  and 
pat  it  with  murmurs  of  delight. 


THE    BLACK    WOODS.  53 

"Perhaps  this  is  the  most  beautiful  of 
all !  "  she  said.  "  I  don't  say  positively, 
but  I  must  think  about  it.  Oh !  and  will 
you  look  ? "  she  broke  off  short,  for  on 
the  rock  at  her  foot  the  bright  moss  was 
all  embroidered  with  rose-colour,  fine, 
quaint  patterns,  traced  in  tiny  buttons  of 
pale  pink  coral.  Fungi,  were  they  ?  what 
a  stupid  language  English  was,  to  have 
no  lovely  word  for  so  lovely  a  thing ! 

Progress  was  necessarily  slow  through 
the  Black  Woods.  Mary's  eyes  were  in 
constant  peril  from  the  interlacing  twigs. 
She  had  often  to  force  her  way  along, 
taking  her  whole  strength  to  it,  bending 
back  the  stubborn  branches,  like  twisted 
rods  of  iron,  that  barred  her  way  at  every 
step.  Once  she  came  very  near  her  end. 
So  absorbed  was  she  in  fighting  her  way 
through  these  ranks  of  silent,  bearded 
sentinels,  that  she  did  not  hear  the  sound 
that  was  growing  nearer  and  louder  at 
every  step,  till  suddenly  light  shone  in 
upon  her ;  the  woods  broke  off  short,  and 


54  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

the  rocks  fell  away  from  her  feet,  and 
there  was  the  sea  leaping  and  shouting 
a  hundred  feet  below. 

It  may  be  that  this  rather  shook  our 
Mary's  nerve ;  or  it  may  be,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  she  grew  careless,  and  over 
confident.  However  it  was,  she  had  not 
gone  very  far  back  from  the  break  in  the 
woods  when  suddenly  her  foot  caught  in 
a  wandering  loop  of  fir-root.  She  stum 
bled,  tried  to  save  herself,  and  finally 
came  heavily  to  the  ground. 

She  was  stunned  for  a  moment;  then, 
her  eyes  clearing,  she  tried  to  rise  has 
tily,  but  sank  back  with  a  cry  of  pain. 

She  had  sprained  her  ankle. 

"What  shall  I  do  now?"  said  Mary 
Weymouth. 

She  was  a  resolute  girl,  and  at  first  she 
was  contented  with  feeling  positively  sure 
that  she  would  get  home  somehow.  She 
must ! 

She  tried  to  stand,  but  found  it  impos 
sible.  She  tried  to  hop  on  the  other  foot, 


THE    BLACK    WOODS.  55 

but  this  made  the  pain  so  distracting  that 
she  cried  out  again,  and  sat  for  some  time 
rocking  backward  and  forward,  like  a  hurt 
child. 

"  Well,  then,  I  must  creep ;  that's  all !  " 
she  said ;  and  she  started  on  her  hands 
and  knees,  being  nearly  three  miles  from 
home,  in  the  middle  of  a  tangled  wilder 
ness. 

Any  one  who  has  tried  to  drag  a 
sprained  ankle  through  a  rough  forest 
will  have  some  idea  of  what  she  was 
attempting  ;  any  one  who  has  not,  is  not 
recommended  to  try  it. 

After  ten  minutes  of  agony,  Mary  had 
made  a  progress  of  three  rods.  She 
became  aware  that  if  she  persisted  she 
should  soon  faint,  and  there  would  be  an 
end  of  it ;  so  she  gave  up  the  battle,  and 
set  her  back  against  a  tree,  and  waited. 

At  first  she  could  not  think.  All  the 
world  was  throbbing  with  anguish,  and  all 
that  anguish  centred  in  her  ankle,  which 
was  punishing  her  cruelly  for  the  treat- 


56  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

ment  it  had  received.  But  when  the  pain 
quieted  a  little,  she  considered  her  posi 
tion.  She  was  nearly  three  miles  from 
home,  as  has  been  said.  It  had  taken  all 
her  strength  to  make  her  way  through 
this  stubborn  wood,  when  her  strength  was 
rejoicing  through  every  limb  of  her  ;  now 
she  was  disabled.  No  one  was  likely  to 
come  this  way  ;  it  was  out  of  the  track  of 
the  island  people,  a  place  given  up  to 
savagery,  which  busy  men  were  glad  to 
let  alone.  What  would  become  of  her  ? 

"  I  certainly  don't  want  to  die  here  !  " 
said  Mary.  She  laughed  as  she  spoke, 
but  it  was  rather  a  dreary  little  laugh,  and 
the  trees  did  not  take  it  up.  She  won 
dered  what  time  it  was  ;  she  had  forgot 
ten  her  watch.  Near  dinner-time,  surely, 
for  she  was  hungry.  Well,  Mrs.  Treherne 
would  wonder  why  she  did  not  come  to 
dinner,  but  she  would  not  take  the  alarm  till 
near  nightfall,  being  used  to  her  going  off 
on  long  excursions.  When  it  came  towards 
supper-time,  the  good  landlady  would  be 


THE    BLACK    WOODS.  57 

frightened  indeed,  and  no  doubt  there 
would  be  a  search-party  organised,  and  in 
due  course  of  time  they  would  find  her. 
After  all,  the  island  was  not  so  very  large ; 
yet  it  might  very  well  be  that  this  would 
be  the  last  place  they  would  think  of 
searching.  Captain  Price  was  going  off 
fishing  at  noon, —  he  had  told  her  so  ; 
and  no  one  else  would  know  of  the  talk 
they  had  had,  and  how  he  had  told  her 
about  these  horrible  woods. 

Well,  and  if  she  had  to  spend  the  night 
here  ;  what  of  it  ?  She  would  be  very 
hungry,  of  course.  Dear  me!  she  was 
very  hungry  now  !  but  people  could  not 
starve  in  one  night.  And  she  would  not 
freeze,  —  though  the  nights  were  pretty 
cool  for  sleeping  out.  And — there  was 
nothing  to  hurt  her. 

This  last  assurance  came  more  slowly 
than  the  others.  Mary  looked  around,  in 
a  mute  appeal  to  the  trees.  She  had 
always  thought,  with  her  favourite  Ste 
venson,  that  trees  were  among  the  most 


58  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

friendly  people  in  the  world;  but  these 
trees  were  not  friendly.  They  seemed  to 
press  round  her,  grim  and  unhelpful ; 
there  was  no  tremor  of  sympathy  in  any 
smallest  twig ;  no  sigh  of  compassion 
moved  their  bushy  tops ;  all  was  stark 
and  silent. 

"  Miserable  comforters  are  ye  all ! " 
said  poor  Mary. 

If  there  were  even  a  squirrel,  it  would 
be  something  !  but  there  was  no  squirrel. 

In  spite  of  her  determination  to  be 
steadfast  and  cheerful,  Mary  found  herself 
already  fancying  how  it  would  be  when 
night  fell,  in  this  grim  desolation  :  the 
black  trees  blotted  out  by  the  deeper 
blackness ;  hunger,  cold,  fear  ! 

Fear  !  she  had  hardly  thought  the  word, 
when  it  seemed  to  possess  the  air,  —  the 
whole  place.  Weak  as  she  was  with  pain 
and  weariness,  fear  seized  her,  and  com 
mon  sense  shrank  away  appalled. 

Who  knew  what  creatures  there  might 
be  lurking  in  this  savage  place  ?  Might 


THE    BLACK    WOODS.  59 

not  this  be  the  last  resort  of  those  beasts 
that  civilisation  had  driven  from  the  main 
land  ?  Bears,  —  panthers,  perhaps  !  and 
what  was  that  Indian  Devil,  about  which 
she  had  once  read  a  terrible  story  ? 
Would  not  any  such  beast,  lingering  un- 
guessed  in  these  deathly  solitudes,  smell 
her  out  at  whatever  distance,  and  come 
creeping  —  creeping  — 

Ah  !  heaven  !  what  was  that  ? 

The  silence  had  been  absolute,  dead, 
noted  only  by  her  own  heart-beats.  But 
now,  far  off,  the  branches  crackled,  the 
dry  leaves  rustled.  Something  was  mov 
ing  through  the  wood  !  Something  alive 
was  coming  nearer  —  nearer  ! 

Mary's  heart  stopped ;  then  sprang  up 
wildly  and  beat  to  suffocation.  She  for 
got  the  pain  for  an  instant,  and  tried  once 
more  to  rise  to  her  feet;  but  the  ankle 
turned  under  her,  and  she  fell  again. 
Now,  in  mortal  terror,  her  hands  clasped, 
her  breath  coming  and  going  in  short, 
quick  pants,  the  girl  waited  —  for  what  ? 


6O  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

Nearer,  the  crackling,  the  rustling  and 
rending !  This  was  no  harmless  little 
wild-wood  creature  that  was  making  its 
way  through  the  dense  forest ;  this  was 
powerful  strength  that  was  tearing  the 
stubborn  branches  apart.  How  should 
she  bear  it  ?  What  prayer  could  give 
her  strength? 

Hark !  oh,  mercy !  hark !  What  was 
that? 

For  over  the  crashing  of  branches, 
clear,  and  high,  and  sweet,  rose  now  an 
other  sound;  and  hearing  it,  Mary 
Weymouth  put  her  face  down  in  her 
hands,  and  wept,  and  laughed,  and  wept 
again,  that  it  was  shame  to  hear  her. 

"  Toreador,  prends  garde !  " 

"  Help  !  "  she  cried ;  and  she  started 
at  her  own  voice,  which  sounded  like  a 
stranger's.  "  John  Harvard,  help  !  " 

There  was  a  brief  exclamation  of  sur 
prise  ;  then  more  crackling  and  rending ; 
and  in  a  few  minutes  a  very  surprised 


THE    BLACK    WOODS.  6 1 

young  man  stood  looking  down  upon  a 
much  confused  young  woman. 

"  Miss  Smith,"  said  John  Harvard.  "  I 
beg  your  pardon  !  Did  you  call  me  ? " 

"  My  name  is  not  Smith  ! "  said  Mary, 
faintly. 

"  Of  course  it  isn't ! "  cried  the  young 
man,  flushing  a  very  honest  red.  "  Aw 
fully  stupid  of  me  !  I  —  I  saw  Smith 
College  on  the  trunk,  don't  you  know  ? " 

He  paused  a  moment,  giving  her  an 
opening  to  mention  her  real  name ;  but 
she  said  nothing,  and  he  went  on  more 
stiffly,  "  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for 
you  ? " 

"  I  have  sprained  my  ankle ! "  said 
Mary.  "  I  cannot  —  walk  —  ' 

"Great  Scott!"  said  John  Harvard. 
"  Oh,  I  say,  I'm  awfully  sorry  !  Let  me 
look  at  it !  I  am  a  surgeon,"  he  added, 
as  Mary  looked  up  in  feeble,  but  manifest 
indignation. 

"I  —  don't  believe  it ! "  she  said. 
"  You  are  an  undergraduate ! " 


62  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

The  young  man  gave  a  short  laugh.  "*•• 
"  I  was  once  !  "  he  said.  "  I  graduated 
at  the  medical  school  a  year  ago,  and 
have  been  in  the  hospital  ever  since. 
Come  ! "  He  was  kneeling  beside  her 
now,  and  spoke  authoritatively.  "  Let  me 
see  —  I  should  think  so !  Did  it  not  oc 
cur  to  you  to  take  off  your  boot  at  once  ? 
Now  I  shall  have  to  cut  it.  What  a 
shame  to  spoil  a  good  boot  like  this ! " 

He  spoke  in  an  injured  tone.  Out 
came  his  knife,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
mangled  boot  lay  on  the  ground. 

u  Now  take  off  the  stocking,"  he  com 
manded,  "  while  I  go  for  some  water.  It 
will  be  easier  for  you  getting  home  if  it  is 
well  bandaged." 

Mary  wanted  to  say,  "  I  wish  I  had  not 
called  you  ! "  but  it  was  becoming  difficult 
to  talk ;  and  the  stocking  was  off  when 
the  young  surgeon  returned,  with  a  fold 
ing  cup  full  of  water.  Her  handkerchief 
was  next  demanded,  torn  in  strips  to 
gether  with  his  own ;  and  then  came  a 


THE    BLACK    WOODS.  63 

moment  of  exquisite  relief,  as  the  cool, 
wet  bandage  was  wound  round  and 
round,  quickly,  delicately,  strongly. 

"  Safety-pin !  "  said  John  Harvard,  as 
if  they  grew  on  every  tree  in  the  woods. 
"  Hold  on  —  I  have  one !  "  and  so  he  had, 
under  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  Mary  won 
dered  what  kind  of  girl  had  pinned  the 
flower  there. 

"  Now  !  "  he  said.  "  Let  us  see  if  we 
can  stand.  Lean  all  your  weight  on  me 
—  so  !  Ah  !  just  as  I  feared ! " 

Mary  rose  to  her  feet,  obedient  to  the 
strong  hand  that  raised  her;  stood  for  a 
moment  wavering,  clinging  to  the  young 
man's  arm,  —  then  the  world  turned  black, 
revolved  once,  and  vanished. 

"  Great  Scott !  "  said  John  Harvard,  as 
he  caught  her. 

Mary  was  rocking  in  a  cradle,  on  an 
uneven  floor.  No !  she  was  in  a  boat, 
and  the  sea  was  choppy.  No !  she  was 
riding  on  a  camel.  The  motion  was  pleas- 


64  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

anter  than  she  had  supposed  it ;  but  how 
did  camels  come  to  be  used  in  the 
woods  — 

Here  she  came  to  herself  with  a  violent 
start,  and  became  aware  of  a  gray  shoul 
der  directly  above  her,  and  still  above,  a 
brown  head  bobbing  serenely  in  time  to 
the  slow,  regular  strides  of  its  owner. 

"  Oh  !  Oh,  Mr.  Harvard !  "  cried  Mary, 
now  fully  awake.  "  How  can  you  ?  oh, 
put  me  down,  please  !  " 

"  Mr.  Harvard  is  good,"  said  the  young 
man,  "  and  well  deserved ;  but  as  to  put 
ting  you  down,  just  wait  a  minute,  till  we 
get  out  of  this  boggy  place." 

"  You  shouldn't  !  "  Mary  protested, 
feebly. 

"  Did  you  want  to  stay  there  ? "  was 
the  reply. 

Mary  murmured  something  about  a 
wheelbarrow  (there  is  no  horse  on  the 
island),  and  was  briefly  bidden  to  look 
about  her. 

"  As  soon  as  we  get  clear  of  the  trees," 


THE    BLACK    WOODS.  65 

said  John  Harvard,  "  I  will  put  you  down, 
and  go  and  get  Captain  Avery  and  a  chair, 
or  a  hammock,  or  something  ;  then  we 
can  get  you  home  comfortably.  Nothing 
could  have  been  got  into  that  place  where 
I  found  you.  Am  I  holding  you  pretty 
well  ?  Are  you  dreadfully  uncomfort 
able  ? " 

Mary  was  not,  and  said  so,  trying  to 
feel  as  grateful  as  she  ought. 

"Used  to  carrying  lame  sister!"  was 
the  brief  explanation.  And  then  nothing 
more  was  said  till  he  set  her  gently  down 
in  a  little  open  space,  on  a  tuft  of  moss 
under  a  spreading  tree. 

"  You  must  be  quite  exhausted  !  "  said 
Mary,  remorsefully,  looking  up  as  the 
young  man  stretched  his  cramped  arms 
and  shook  himself. 

"  Not  a  bit !  "  was  the  cheery  answer. 
"  Been  training  all  the  spring  with  a  crew. 
Ha  !  Now  —  you  are  all  right  here  for 
half  an  hour  —  Miss  Smith  ?  " 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Harvard  —  thank  you  ! " 


66  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

Then  their  eyes  met,  and  Mary  found 
herself  laughing  helplessly,  whether  she 
would  or  no. 

"  It  is  funny  !  "  she  said,  ruefully. 

"  Isn't  it !  "  said  John  Harvard.  "  Aw 
fully  funny  !  "  and  off  he  went  across  the 
hill. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SOUVENT    FEMME    VARIE. 

ND  I  must  say,  Mary  Weymouth,  I 
think  you  are  a  very  ungrateful 
girl  !  " 

It  was  Mrs.  Treherne  who  spoke.  She 
had  dropped  the  "  Miss  "  some  time  before, 
in  speaking  to  Mary  ;  had  they  not  dis 
covered  that  the  young  girl  was  niece  to 
her  third  cousin,  once  removed  ? 

The  two  women  were  sitting  in  the 
pleasant  parlour,  Mary  on  the  sofa,  Mrs. 
Treherne  in  the  rocking-chair. 

"  Ungrateful ! "  repeated  Mrs.  Treherne. 
"  Here  has  Mr. —  " 

"  I  tell  you  I  don't  want  to  know  his 
name  !  "  broke  in  Mary,  petulantly. 

"  Well,  if  you  are  not  contrary ! "  sighed 


68  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

the  good  landlady.  "  Here  has  he  been 
as  kind  as  kind,  and  tended  your  foot, 
and  kept  you  from  having  a  serious  lame 
ness,  like  as  not,  to  say  nothing  of  his 
bringing  you  out  of  those  awful  woods, 
where  you  might  have  been  to  this  day, 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  him,  —  and  now  you 
won't  ask  him  to  come  into  the  sitting- 
room." 

"  Oh  !  how  you  do  tease  me,  Mrs.  Tre- 
herne  !  "  cried  Mary,  turning  fretfully  on 
her  sofa. 

"  It's  not  my  sitting-room,  as  I  have 
told  you  twenty  times.  He  is  as  free  to 
come  here  as  I  am.  Why  doesn't  he 
come,  then,  if  he  wants  to  ?  " 

"  That's  foolish  talk  !  "  said  Mrs.  Tre- 
herne.  "  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that 
he  won't  come  unless  you  ask  him.  I 
never  saw  folks  behave  so  foolish  in  my 
life.  There  !  " 

"  Then  he  can  stay  out ! "  said  Mary. 

She  was  silent,  listening  to  the  sound 
of  regular  footsteps  outside,  pacing  up 


SOUVENT    FEMME    VARIE.  69 

and  down  the  verandah.  The  steps  were 
accompanied  by  a  cheerful  whistle,  but 
the  rain  was  pattering  on  the  windows, 
and  the  wind  whistled  drearily  through 
the  cracks.  A  northeaster  was  setting 
in,  and  it  was  not  probably  pleasant  out 
there.  Mary  threw  an  angry  glance  at 
the  landlady.  Why  could  not  one  be  let 
alone  for  a  little  while  ?  Her  mind  went 
back  over  the  scenes  of  the  past  week. 
She  hurried  over  the  adventure  in  the 
wood  ;  she  did  not  care  to  dwell  upon  it ; 
besides,  there  was  no  danger  of  her  for 
getting  it.  But  she  thought  of  the  suc 
ceeding  days,  when  she  had  been  so 
feverish  and  wretched,  and  the  young 
surgeon  had  never  failed  to  come  twice 
a  day  to  look  at  her  bandages,  and  to 
sit  beside  her  for  a  few  minutes,  full  of 
cheery  talk  and  pleasant  stories.  He 
never  alluded  to  the  past,  nor  to  the 
future.  One  would  think  he  had  never 
seen  her  before ;  that  she  was  simply 
a  new  patient,  and  —  to  judge  from  his 


7O  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

manner  —  rather  an  interesting  one.  He 
called  her  Miss  Smith,  and  she  called  him 
Mr.  Harvard,  with  perfect  composure,  as 
if  neither  had  known  any  other  name.  It 
certainly  was  foolish,  but  — 

Well,  and  then  what  had  happened? 
Mary  hardly  knew.  Had  she  fancied  one 
day  that  the  look  in  his  eyes  was  too 
kind,  the  pressure  of  his  hand  too  cordial, 
as  he  greeted  her  ?  and  had  she  drawn 
back  in  consequence,  veiled  her  own 
eyes  with  coldness,  answered  indiffer 
ently  the  friendly  greeting  ?  Possibly  ! 
one  could  not  always  keep  exactly  the 
right  shade  of  tone  in  one's  voice ;  but 
surely  that  was  not  sufficient  reason  for 
his  withdrawing  absolutely  into  his  shell, 
and  never  coming  near  her  since  she 
began  to  come  down-stairs.  She  didn't 
believe  she  had  been  so  disagreeable 
as  all  that;  and  even  if  she  had  — 

The  girl  shut  her  eyes  ;  and  when  she 
did  so,  she  saw  a  brown  head  bobbing 
above  hers,  and  heard  a  voice  ask,  "Do 


SOUVENT    FEMME    VARIE.  /I 

I  hold  you  pretty  well  ?  Are  you  dread 
fully  uncomfortable  ?  " 

She  opened  her  eyes  promptly ;  she 
must  be  still  weak,  or  this  ridiculous 
thing  would  not  go  on,  —  and  she  heard 
the  strong,  steady  tread  outside,  and  the 
cheerful  whistle,  and  the  rain  pattering 
down.  It  was  actually  pouring  now.  Oh, 
if  one  had  to  be  one's  own  scapegoat ! 

She  threw  another  black  look  at  the 
landlady ;  then  leaned  forward,  and,  as 
the  steps  drew  near,  knocked  on  the  win 
dow  by  the  head  of  her  sofa. 

The  steps  stopped.  Mary  knocked 
again.  "Won't  you  come  in?"  she 
said. 

"  All  right !  "  was  the  answer  ;  and  the 
next  minute  the  young  man  entered,  six 
foot  of  sunburnt  health  and  cheeriness. 
Mary  had  a  moment  of  exasperation. 
Why  should  he  be  striding  about,  and 
looking  like  that,  when  she  was  on  this 
tiresome  sofa  ? 

"  Oh  !  "    she    said,    rather   unamiably. 


72  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

"  Mrs.  Treherne  wanted  you  to  come  in  ; 
she  was  afraid  you  would  get  wet." 

Then,  seeing  the  swift  change  in  his 
face,  and  flushing  scarlet  at  her  own  rude 
ness,  she  cried  out :  "  No  !  that  isn't  it 
at  all!  We  are  tired  to  death  of  each 
other ;  we  want  to  be  amused.  Won't 
you  sit  down  —  please  —  and  amuse 
us?" 

People  said  that  Mary  Weymouth  had 
the  most  winning  smile  in  the  world, 
when  she  chose  to  make  use  of  it ;  cer 
tainly,  John  Harvard  did  not  even  try  to 
resist  it.  He  sat  down  by  the  fire,  and 
looked  at  the  young  girl  with  friendly 
eyes.  "  How  is  the  ankle  to-day  ? "  he 
said. 

"  That  doesn't  amuse  me  !  "  said  Mary. 
"  The    ankle    is    very   much    better,  — 
thanks !     That   ointment   is   really  won 
derful.     Did  you  get  it  from  a  witch  ? " 

He  nodded.  "  She  lives  over  by  Green 
Point.  Her  name  is  Hazel,  and  she  has 
tufts  of  yellow  hair  growing  on  her  arms  ; 


SOUVENT   FEMME   VARIE.  73 

also,  she  has  an  extraordinary  bark.  Does 
this  amuse  you  ?  " 

"  Pretty  well !  "  said  Mary,  laughing. 
"  But  I  would  rather  hear  a  story.  Have 
you  a  story  of  your  own,  or  are  you  a 
needy  knife-grinder  ? " 

"  You  describe  me  accurately,"  said  the 
young  man,  gravely.  And  he  added, 
with  an  odd  little  inflection  in  his  voice, 
"  My  story  is  just  beginning." 

"  I  don't  understand  a  word  you  two 
are  saying,"  said  Mrs.  Treherne. 

"  Oh !  but  it  is  you  who  have  the 
stories,  Mrs.  Treherne,"  said  Mary,  turn 
ing  with  animation  to  her  hostess.  "  Tell 
us  a  story ;  please  do !  Tell  us  about 
this  house.  Didn't  you  say  it  was  the 
oldest  house  on  the  island  ?  There  must 
be  stories  about  it." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Mrs.  Tre 
herne  ;  and  she  pondered  a  moment. 

"  I've  told  you  about  the  naming  of  it, 
and  all  that."  Assured  that  she  had 
not,  the  good  lady  counted  her  stitches 


74  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

and  settled  herself  comfortably  in  her 
chair. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  this  is  the  oldest 
house  on  the  island,  surely.  It  is  called 
the  Influence.  They  used  to  name  the 
houses  in  those  days,  same  as  they  did 
ships  and  folks ;  and  there  was  a  great 
to-do  over  the  raising  of  this  one.  My 
great-grandfather,  Polwarth,  built  it,  and 
his  daughter  christened  it,  and  made  the 
posy." 

"  Oh,  how  delightful !  "  cried  Mary. 
"  Tell  us  all  about  the  christening." 

"  I  wasn't  there,"  said  Mrs.  Treherne, 
with  a  twinkle.  "  But  they  do  say  it  was 
a  great  occasion.  Peggy  Polwarth  was 
the  handsomest  girl  anywhere  in  these 
parts,  island  or  main,  and  folks  came  from 
far  and  near  to  'tend  the  christening. 
There  was  a  story  of  a  boat  coming  over 
from  Matinicus  with  three  young  men 
aboard,  and  all  of  them  in  love  with  Peggy, 
and  they  quarrelling  about  which  should 
have  her,  and  upsetting  the  boat,  and 


SOUVENT    FEMME    VARIE.  75 

all  three  drowned ;  but  I  never  believed 
that  myself.  Anyhow,  Peggy  came  down 
to  the  raising,  in  a  white  gown  and  flowers 
in  her  hair ;  and  she  ran  up  the  ladder  like 
a  squirrel,  and  stood  on  the  ridge-pole,  and 
walked  the  len'th  of  it  with  her  two  arms 
stretched  out,  —  so't  folks  was  scared  to 
death  she'd  fall  and  break  her  neck.  She 
was  a  terrible  lively  girl.  But  she  didn't 
fall ;  and  she  broke  the  bottle,  and  she 
said  like  this : 

"  '  This  is  a  fine  frame, 

Raised  in  a  pleasant  spot. 
May  God  bless  the  owner, 

And  all  he  has  got ! 
It  shall  be  called  "  The  Influence," 

And  the  "  Landlady's  Delight ;  " 
It  was  raised  on  Thursday, 

A  little  before  night.'  " 

"  Oh,  what  a  delightful  thing  !  "  sighed 
Mary.  "  To  have  it  really  true,  and  to 
be  actually  living  in  the  house !  And 
has  it  been  your  delight,  Mrs.  Tre- 
herne  ? " 


76  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

"  Humph ! "  said  Mrs.  Treherne.  "  That 
depends  upon  the  kind  of  guests  I  have. 
It  takes  all  kinds  to  make  folks." 

"  And  how  about  the  '  Influence '  ? " 
asked  John  Harvard.  "  That  seems  to  me 
very  interesting.  What  do  you  suppose 
was  in  the  young  girl's  mind?  And  it 
would  be  curious  if  one  could  trace  any 
influence  —  any  similarity  in  the  lives  of 
the  people  who  lived  in  this  house." 

Mrs.  Treherne  glanced  at  him  under 
her  eyebrows. 

"  Folks  used  to  call  it  '  Courtship 
Castle,'  one  while,"  she  said,  quietly. 
"  There's  been  more  marriages  from  this 
house  than  from  any  three  on  the  is 
land." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  John  Harvard,  thought 
fully. 

At  this  moment  a  bell  tinkled  in  the 
distance.  The  young  man  looked  up  and 
sighed. 

"  There  is  my  supper-bell ! "  he  said. 
"  Dear  me !  This  fire  is  altogether  too 


SOUVENT    FEMME    VARIE.  // 

pleasant  to  leave,  —  to  say  nothing  of  the 
company." 

Mrs.  Treherne  reflected  a  moment,  knit 
ting  rapidly.  "  I've  been  meaning  to  say 
to  you  and  Miss  —  " 

"  Smith  !  "  said  Mary,  quickly. 

"  Well,  I  declare  !  "  said  Mrs.  Treherne. 
"  I've  been  meaning  to  tell  you  both,  — 
my  girl  thinks  she  can't  get  so  many 
meals,  right  along,  so.  She  isn't  over 
strong,  and  I  can't  have  her  fall  sick, 
with  the  summer  just  beginning.  Sup 
pose  you  both  take  your  tea  with  me  to 
night  !  'Twould  be  an  accommodation,  I 
assure  you ;  and  I  get  real  lonesome  some 
times,  sitting  there  all  alone." 

"  Why,  of  course,  Mrs.  Treherne ! " 
cried  Mary.  "  How  thoughtless,  how 
inconsiderate  we  have  been  !  " 

"  Awfully  stupid ! "  murmured  John 
Harvard. 

"  Thank  you  !  "  said  Mary,  demurely. 

"  Oh,  I  say ! "  cried  John  Harvard. 
"You  know  what  I  meant!  And — and 


78  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

I  think  Mrs.  Treherne  is  right.  It's  aw 
fully  poky  eating  alone,  don't  you  think  ? 
Do  let  us  have  supper  all  together ! " 

"  And  it  is  my  supper,  too !  "  said  Mrs. 
Treherne,  smiling.  "  Your  bell  rang  half 
an  hour  ago,  sir,  and  you  never  heard  it." 
"  You  don't  say  so !  "  said  the  young 
man.  "  The  world  is  so  full  of  a  number 
of  things  —  " 

"  Oh,  you  love  Stevenson  ? "  cried  Mary, 
her  eyes  shining. 

"  Well,  I  hope  so !  "  said  the  young  man. 
Hereupon  ensued  a  sudden  eager  babble 
of  both  voices,  which  was  unintelligible 
to    Mrs.    Treherne,   waiting  with  Mary's 
crutches  in  her  hand.     She  heard  "  Kid 
napped,"  "The  Master  —  " 
"  Oh,  but  the  '  Ebb-tide ' ! " 
"  You  know  '  Underwoods  '  ?  " 
"  By  heart !     From  cover  to  cover !  " 
"I,   too!      Oh!      'Our   Lady   of   the 
Snows '  —  " 

"  But      the      Fables,  —  nothing     like 
them  !  —  " 


SOUVENT    FEMME    VARIE.  79 

"  Your  supper  will  be  as  cold  as  a 
stone ! "  said  the  landlady,  plaintively. 
"  And  it  is  a  good  supper,  if  I  do  say 
it." 

"  I  am  fed  on  proper  meat ! "  cried  John 
Harvard,  gaily.  His  eyes  danced,  and 
the  girl's  shone  in  glad  response.  It 
seemed  as  if  some  chord  had  been 
touched,  some  common  bond  discovered, 
which  destroyed  with  a  touch  the  barrier 
between  them. 

"  What  are  these  for  ? "  said  John  Har 
vard,  pointing  to  the  crutches.  "You 
don't  need  those  things  any  more,  surely. 
Take  my  arm  !  I  am  quite  sure  it  will 
be  all  you  need." 

Mrs.  Treherne  laid  down  the  crutches, 
and  followed  quietly  ;  they  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  her.  And  they  all  had  a  feast 
of  joy,  - —  and  lobsters,  —  and  there  were 
no  more  solitary  meals  at  the  Influence. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    ROCK    HOUSE. 

AGAIN  it  was  closing  in  for  a  rainy 
evening;  but  Mary  did  not  mind 
the  rain  this  time.  She  had  had  a  de 
lightful  day,  and  a  delightful  evening  was 
before  her.  The  ankle  was  well,  and  she 
and  her  former  enemy  had  been  off  on 
an  exploring  tour  together.  Great  as 
was  the  joy  of  rambling  alone  among 
the  mighty  hills  and  the  wild  rocks,  Mary 
found  it  to  be  surpassed  by  the  pleasure 
of  doing  the  same  thing  in  agreeable  com 
pany.  A  strong  hand  always  ready  to  help 
her  over  the  dikes  and  chasms,  a  quick  eye 
that  took  in  every  anemone  in  the  rock- 
pools,  every  flower  on  the  uplands ;  a 
hearty,  ready  will  to  see  everything, 
80 


THE    ROCK    HOUSE.  8 1 

do  everything,  enjoy  everything,  —  and 
withal  a  manifest  pleasure  in  her  soci 
ety,  —  what  maiden  would  not  prefer  this 
to  solitude,  if  she  were  in  any  degree 
right  -  minded  ?  Mary  had  been  wrong- 
minded  ;  she  acknowledged  that ;  and 
now  it  was  really  much  more  sensible 
to  be  friendly  and  —  and  nice  to  this 
young  man.  They  might  never  meet 
again  after  this  summer ;  their  paths  would 
lie  far  apart;  she  would  try  to  leave  a 
pleasant  impression  on  his  mind. 

So  they  had  had  a  joyful  morning 
about  Gull  Rock,  and  now  she  was  look 
ing  forward  to  a  cheerful  evening  by 
the  fireside,  with  Mrs.  Treherne  knitting 
and  rocking,  and  John  Harvard  reading 
"  Pride  and  Prejudice  "  aloud.  Dear  Eliza 
beth  !  dear  Darcy  !  she  had  been  so  clever 
to  bring  them  with  her  ! 

Singing  a  gay  little  song,  she  ran 
down-stairs  when  the  tea-bell  rang.  Mrs. 
Treherne  was  sitting  alone  at  the  table, 
looking  rather  grave. 


82  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

"  Where     is     Mr.     Harvard  ? "     asked  * 
Mary. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Mrs.  Treherne.  "  I 
do  wish  he'd  come  back !  I  feel  real 
worried  about  him ;  there  !  " 

"Why!  what  —  where  is  he?"  cried 
Mary,  looking  anxious  in  her  turn. 

"Word  came  about  an  hour  ago,  while 
you  were  resting,  that  a  child  was  sick 
up  to  the  Rock  House,  as  they  call  it. 
It's  a  little  old  house,  about  a  mile  up  • 
from  the  street.  The  man  who  lives 
there  is  a  newcomer,  a  Norwegian.  He 
hasn't  been  there  more'n  a  few  months, 
and  his  wife  is  sick,  and  has  this  babe, 
about  six  months  old.  Don't  you  remem 
ber  my  telling  you,  Mary  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  yes,  yes  !  "  cried  Mary,  remorse 
fully.  "  And  I  was  only  thinking  of  my 
self  and  my  ankle,  and  forgot  all  about 
it.  Well,  and  what  else  ?  " 

"Why,  the  man  is  cantankerous  !  "  said 
Mrs.  Treherne.  "  One  woman  and  an 
other  has  tried  to  help  them,  but  he  drinks, 


THE    ROCK    HOUSE.  83 

I  guess,  and  there  can't  no  one  stand  his 
temper.  I  guess  his  wife  has  a  hard  time 
of  it,  poor  soul.  To-day  she  sent  word 
that  the  baby  was  sick,  and  wouldn't  I 
come  ?  but  I  couldn't,  for  I  promised  to 
sit  up  to-night  with  Mis'  Mays.  She's 
failing  fast,  and  her  folks  are  worn  out 
watching.  I  never  did  see  so  much  sick 
ness  on  the  island  as  there  is  now.  It 
seems  as  if  every  family  had  their  hands 
full ;  and  no  doctor,  and  —  well,  Mr.  Har 
vard  said  right  off,  he'd  go,  though  he 
had  a  cold,  and  'tis  a  dismal  place  up 
there.  So  off  he  went,  and  that's  the 
last  I've  heard.  I  hated  to  have  him  go 
every  way.  We  do  aim  to  care  for  our 
folks  well,  here  on  the  island ;  but  these 
people  seem  to  be  by  themselves,  some 
way  of  it.  The  man's  off  fishing,  and  I 
don't  know  whether  the  woman  is  able  to 
do  for  herself  and  the  child,  let  alone  Mr. 
Harvard,  —  it  does  seem  foolish  to  call 
him  out  of  his  name,  good  as  he  is,  but 
you  will  have  your  way  !  And  not  a  bite 


84  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

of  anything  to  eat  since  noon,  and  may 
be  there  half  the  night !  There !  I  am 
discouraged ! " 

Mary  had  listened  in  silence,  sipping 
her  tea  and  eating  her  bread  and  butter. 
Now  she  said,  quietly  : 

"  I  will  go  up  there,  Mrs.  Treherne.  If 
you  will  get  me  a  basket,  I  will  take  up 
Mr.  Harvard's  supper,  and  stay  and  help 
a  little.  Oh,  you  needn't  look  surprised  !  " 
she  added.  "  I  know  a  good  deal  about 
sickness,  and  I  am  used  to  babies,  and  I 
know  the  way  to  the  house.  So  make  up 
a  good  little  basket,  there's  a  dear,  and  I 
will  be  off  as  soon  as  I  have  finished  my 
griddle-cakes.  I  suppose  you  couldn't 
send  him  any  of  those  ?  They  do  look 
so  good ! " 

She  spoke  cheerfully,  but  with  decision  ; 
and  Mrs.  Treherne,  after  remonstrating 
properly  against  her  going  out  on  such  a 
night,  was  glad  to  yield.  A  basket  was 
packed  with  tea  and  sugar,  a  bottle  of 
milk,  bread  and  butter,  and  good  Mrs. 


THE    ROCK    HOUSE.  85 

Treherne  slipped  in  a  pot  of  raspberry 
jam,  with  apologies. 

"  'Twill  make  it  heavy,  I  know,"  she 
said,  "  but  he  does  set  by  it,  and  I  don't 
know  as  it  weighs  so  very  much." 

"  I  think  I  can  stagger  under  it !  "  said 
Mary,  laughing.  She  had  taken  off  her 
pretty  house  dress,  and  put  on  the  fa 
miliar  short  blue  skirt  and  jacket.  Over 
her  shoulders  she  threw  a  short  rough 
cape  with  a  hood,  fixed  her  Tam-o'-Shan- 
ter  firmly  on  her  head,  and  felt  ready  for 
anything. 

"Won't  you  take  an  umbrella?"  said 
Mrs.  Treherne.  "Child,  you'll  be  wet 
through  before  you  get  there." 

"  Not  I  !  "  said  Mary.  "  My  skirt  and 
cloak  are  waterproof;  so  is  Tammy; 
basket  and  lantern  are  all  I  can  manage. 
Good-bye  !  and  don't  worry,  if  I  should 
not  get  back  till  morning." 

She  laughed  at  Mrs.  Treherne's  ex 
clamation  of  horror,  and  stepped  bravely 
out  into  the  lashing  rain.  The  lantern 


86  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

swung  to  her  rapid  steps,  throwing  its" 
gleams  to  right  and  left,  and  lighting  up 
the  rocks,  gay  with  orange  lichens,  that 
bordered  the  steep,  crooked  village  street. 
Not  a  soul  was  out  this  wild  night.  A 
body  was,  however,  for  half-way  down 
the  street  a  great  head  flashed  out  of  the 
darkness  before  her,  and  she  almost  ran 
into  David,  the  village  bull.  David  spent 
his  peaceful  days  wandering  up  and  down 
the  village,  and  was  now  probably  going 
somewhere  to  bed.  Mary  recoiled  with 
a  little  shriek,  and  ran  swiftly  past  the 
huge  creature.  She  did  not  like  bulls. 
David  was  generally  amiable,  but  the  day 
before  he  had  taken  more  notice  of  her 
red  scarf  than  was  pleasant.  Yes,  and 
John  Harvard  had  taken  him  by  his 
horns,  and  turned  him  round,  and  then 
with  a  friendly  kick  sent  him  lumbering 
off  towards  the  post-office. 

How  it  did  rain  !  Up  the  hill  now,  by 
the  schoolhouse ;  then  to  the  left,  through 
Captain  Janeway's  yard ;  opening  and 


THE    ROCK    HOUSE.  S/ 

shutting  all  the  queer  little  gates,  jump 
ing  from  one  level  to  another,  crossing 
the  tiny  stream,  which  raged  furiously  in 
its  bed,  like  an  angry  baby.  The  smell  of 
the  fish  — for  she  knew  exactly  where  Cap 
tain  Janeway  dried  his  fish  —  guided  her 
to  the  last  gate  of  all,  and  once  past  this, 
she  was  out  on  the  north  down,  with  the 
sea  bellowing  below,  and  the  wind  and 
rain  swooping  and  shrieking  at  her  above. 

It  was  a  wild  night !  Had  she  known 
how  wild  — 

Yes !  She  would  have  come  just  the 
same.  Was  she  not  descended  from 
island  people  ?  This  was  her  home,  the 
home  of  her  heart. 

Here  she  stepped  on  a  sheep,  huddled 
asleep  under  a  point  of  rock,  and  came 
near  falling  headlong  over  the  cliff.  The 
sheep  rose  and  fled,  remonstrating.  "Well, 
I  like  that,"  said  Mary,  "  when  you  came 
near  killing  me  !  " 

On  she  went,  the  storm  buffeting  and 
tearing  at  her,  the  surf  thundering  be- 


88  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

neath  her  feet.  She  began  to  realise 
what  she  had  undertaken.  A  moment's 
faintness  seized  her,  at  the  thought  of 
that  white,  boiling  waste  below,  which 
she  could  not  see.  If  she  had  fallen  — 
she  faltered.  Had  she  overrated  her 
strength  ?  would  she  be  able  to  reach  the 
house  ? 

Then  there  came  to  her  mind  a  word  of 
the  Poet-Master  whom  she  loved,  —  "  The 
bright  face  of  danger  —  " 

She  shook  her  head  resolutely,  and 
pressed  bravely  on ;  and  almost  the  next 
moment,  rounding  a  point  of  rock,  she 
saw  a  light  not  far  off,  and  knew  it  was 
the  goal  she  sought.  A  few  minutes  more 
of  battling  against  a  wall  that  was  alive, 
and  that  bit  and  scratched  and  screamed 
at  her,  —  and  breathless  and  dripping, 
Mary  stood  at  the  door  of  the  Rock 
House. 

The  young  man  whom  we  have  known 
as  John  Harvard  had  been  having  a  very 


THE    ROCK    HOUSE.  89 

uncomfortable  two  hours.  He  had  started 
at  once  on  hearing  of  the  sick  baby ;  with 
a  little  sigh,  to  be  sure,  and  a  glance  at 
the  pleasure  he  was  leaving  behind,  yet 
with  a  steady,  cheerful  gaze,  bent  on  the 
duty  before  him.  He  was  rather  a  good 
fellow,  this  John  Harvard.  Reaching  the 
house,  he  found  the  woman  —  a  Norwe 
gian,  who  spoke  little  English  —  suffering 
from  a  sharp  attack  of  pleurisy.  He  took 
the  crying  child  from  her  arms,  and  sent 
her  promptly  to  bed.  Then,  when  he 
had  mixed  and  administered  the  proper 
remedies,  he  considered  what  to  do  next. 
The  baby  was  wailing,  the  woman  moan 
ing,  the  fire  gone  out. 

"  When  in  doubt,  fill  the  kettle  !  "  said 
John  Harvard,  remembering  his  mother's 
admonitions.  He  laid  the  baby  in  the 
cradle.  It  screamed  lustily,  but  he  har 
dened  his  heart,  and  filled  the  kettle  and 
built  up  a  roaring  fire.  Then  he  took  the 
baby  again,  and  observed  it  carefully. 
The  poor  little  creature  was  behaving 


9O  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

very  like  the  Duchess's  baby  in  "  Alice,""*'**, 
doubling  itself  up  and  straightening  itself 
out  again,  screaming  violently  all  the  time. 
When  he  laid  it  on  his  shoulder  and  walked 
up  and  down  the  room  with  it,  the  screams 
quieted  a  little.  He  felt  the  little  hands 
and  head  ;  no  fever  !  The  baby  face  was 
scarlet  with  crying,  but  the  limbs  were 
plump  and  firm,  and  the  lungs  were  cer 
tainly  in  superb  condition.  Poor  little 
thing!  It  was  sobbing  quietly  now,  and  '• 
John  Harvard  was  aware  of  a  queer  sen 
sation  about  his  heart,  as  he  felt  the  vel 
vet  cheek  against  his  own.  Poor  little 
beggar !  it  was  a  shame  to  have  to  be  a 
baby,  and  to  have  pains  too ! 

Then,  somehow,  he  found  himself  think 
ing  of  that  other  head  that  had  rested  on 
his  shoulder,  not  so  many  days  ago.  It 
had  been  heavier  than  the  baby's,  but  not 
at  all  too  heavy.  And  how  pale  and 
lovely  she  looked,  with  the  long  lashes  on 
her  cheek  ! 

And  the  way  the  colour  came  flooding 


THE    ROCK    HOUSE.  9 1 

back  when  she  opened  her  eyes !  Ah  !  — 
well,  —  one  didn't  have  such  luck 
twice  ! 

What  was  the  matter  with  this  baby, 
anyhow  ?  Nothing  very  serious,  or  it 
could  not  look  like  this.  Now  that  it  was 
quiet,  he  would  lay  it  in  the  cradle,  and 
see  how  the  mother  was  getting  on.  But 
the  moment  he  put  the  child  down,  it 
screamed  and  shrieked  so  violently,  that 
the  poor  woman  woke  from  the  doze  into 
which  she  had  fallen,  and  moaned  in  con 
cert. 

"  Wife  dying  up-stairs,  mad  dog  down  !  " 
quoted  John  Harvard.  "  Are  we  to  keep 
this  up  all  night  ?  " 

He  took  the  baby  up  again,  and  re 
sumed  his  march.  Up  and  down,  up 
and  down !  Perhaps  he  could  get  it  to 
sleep !  What  did  one  sing  to  a  baby  ? 
"  Toreador "  would  only  send  it  broad 
awake. 

He  began  to  croon  softly  a  little  old 
French  song. 


92  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

"Quand  j'ai  vu  Madeline 
Pour  la  premiere  fois, 
Elle  gravait  la  colline, 
Je  descendais  du  bois. 
En  robe  du  Dimanche, 
En  guimpe  et  jupe  blanche, 
Elle  allait  sous  les  branches. 
Que  les  beaux  jours  sont  courts  ! " 

But  it  was  the  second  verse  that  had 
been  haunting  him,  ever  since  that  day  in 
the  woods. 

"  Pour  aller  au  village, 
Le  chemin  fait  un  pli; 
Et  la  veille  un  orage 
D'eau  1'avait  tout  rempli. 
Souriante  et  legere, 
Je  Penlevai  de  terre  ; 
Elle  se  laissa  faire. 
Que  les  beaux  jours  sont  courts!  " 

Circumstances  different,  result  the  same! 

"  '  Je  1'enlevai  de  terre ; 
Elle  se  laissa  faire  '  — 

because  she  couldn't  help  herself,  poor 
dar  —  oh,    come,    this    will    never    do ! 


THE    ROCK    HOUSE.  93 

Baby,  what  are  you  about  ?  Almost  asleep  ? 
That's  good  ! 

"  '  Que  les  beaux  jours  sont  courts  !  ' 

"  By  Jove,  aren't  they  !  And  that  brute 
of  a  Tom  coming  to  pick  me  up  next  week. 
Well,  I  won't  go,  anyhow." 

But  then  —  Tom  might  come  ashore  — 
oh,  bother  Tom ! 

"  Hush,  baby  !  hush  !  —  Better  now, 
ma'am  ?  That's  right !  As  soon  as  I  can 
put  the  baby  down,  I'll  get  you  some 
milk,  or  gruel,  or  something.  Hush  — 
hush  —  baby  —  bye  !  Hush  —  hush  — 
oh,  Great  Scott !  " 

For  he  had  thought  the  baby  sound 
asleep,  and  had  laid  it  once  more  in  the 
cradle  ;  and  here  it  was  yelling  like  a  little 
demon,  and  twisting  itself  into  hard  knots. 

The  young  man  caught  up  the  child 
again,  and  struck  out  once  more  in  a  kind 
of  despair.  How  long  would  this  last? 
Till  the  child  grew  up  ?  There  was  a  man 
who  carried  a  calf  till  it  grew  to  be  an 
ox  — 


94  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

But   just    at    this    moment,    while   the"*- 
baby  was  screaming,  the  mother  sighing, 
and   John   Harvard  stalking  with  tragic 
brows,  —  Hamlet   in  the   nursery,  —  the 
door  opened. 

As  if  blown  in  by  the  gale,  came  a  light 
figure,  dripping,  breathless,  with  glowing 
cheeks  and  shining  eyes.  So  lightly, 
quickly,  the  girl  came,  the  young  man 
thought  her  for  an  instant  a  part  of  his 
dream.  "  Souriante  et  legere  !  "  '* 

But  no  !  She  was  real.  She  was  setting 
down  a  basket,  hanging  up  her  wet  cloak, 
warming  her  hands  at  the  fire,  and  all  the 
time  smiling  at  him  —  oh,  no  one  else  in 
the  world  knew  how  to  smile  ! 

"  Oh,  I  say  !  "  cried  John  Harvard. 

In  two  minutes  the  basket  was  un 
packed.  In  five,  the  gruel  wras  on  the 
stove,  a  plate  on  the  table,  and  Mary  was 
holding  out  her  arms  for  the  baby. 

"  Oh,  I  say  ! "  said  John  Harvard 
again.  "  You're  awfully  good  !  I'm  so 
glad  you  have  come !  But  how  could 


THE    ROCK    HOUSE.  95 

you  come  in  this  storm  ?  You  ought  not 
to  have  stirred  out  of  doors.  Are  you 
sure  he  isn't  too  heavy  for  you  ?  I  can't 
make  out  what  is  the  matter  with  the 
child  !  "  he  continued ;  and  the  relief  in 
his  tone,  as  he  gave  up  his  charge,  was 
almost  comic. 

"You  see,  —  of  course  I've  had  very 
little  experience,  and  most  of  that  surgical, 
—  casual  wards  and  all  that,  —  and  I  can 
not  tell !  He  doesn't  seem  to  be  in  pain, 
till  I  put  him  into  the  cradle,  and  then  he 
screams  like  —  like  —  oh,  I  am  so  glad 
you  have  come  !  " 

He  sat  down  with  a  deep  sigh  of  con 
tent,  and  looked  at  Mary,  and  then  at  the 
raspberry  jam.  He  was  a  healthy  and 
vigorous  youth,  and  it  was  an  hour  and 
more  past  supper-time. 

Mary  sat  down  by  the  fire,  with  the 
baby  in  her  arms  ;  she  cooed  and  mur 
mured  to  it,  and  the  baby  looked  up  at 
her,  with  its  pretty  eyes  all  red  and  swollen 
with  crying. 


96  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

"  My  lamb  !  "  said  Mary.  "  My  littte 
poor,  sweet  lamb !  What  did  hurt  it,  a 
kitty  baby  ?  " 

She  laid  the  child  on  its  back ;  it 
screamed,  and  grew  purple  in  the  face. 
She  turned  it  over  on  its  face  ;  the  screams 
died  away  into  moans,  into  faint  sobs, 
then  stopped  altogether. 

"  There  !  "  said  John  Harvard.  "  That's 
the  way  it  has  been  acting  ever  since  I 
came.  Most  extraordinary  thing  !  " 

"  I  should  think  so  !  "  said  Mary,  quietly. 

She  patted  the  child ;  she  felt  it  all 
over  with  swift,  light  ringers.  "  My  lamb  !  " 
she  said  again.  "  It  was  a  wicked,  wicked 
shame,  so  it  was  !  "  and  she  drew  out,  and 
held  up  in  the  firelight  —  a  pin  ! 

"  Right  in  his  precious  back  !  "  she  said. 
"  The  only  wonder  is  that  the  child  hasn't 
had  a  fit!" 

"  Great  Scott !  "  said  John  Harvard. 

When  the  two  started  on  their  home 
ward  walk  together,  mother  and  child 


THE    ROCK    HOUSE.  97 

were  both  sleeping  sweetly.  The  father 
had  come  home,  sober  and  conciliatory. 
The  rain  and  wind  still  continued,  but  it 
was  a  joyful  paaan  that  they  roared  and 
shouted.  A  glorious  night  for  a  walk, 
both  young  people  agreed.  With  Mary 
on  his  arm,  John  Harvard  thought  lightly 
of  the  prince  of  the  powers  of  the  air. 
Once,  indeed,  the  desire  to  kiss  her  came 
upon  him  so  strongly,  that  in  repressing 
it  he  pressed  her  arm  unconsciously. 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Mary.  "  What  is  the  mat 
ter  ?  Is  it  the  bull  ?  " 

"  No,  no  !  nothing  !  "  said  the  young 
man,  in  confusion.  "  Nothing  at  all  !  I 
had  —  a  pain  ;  that's  all." 

"  A  pain  ?  Oh  !  Where  ?  " 

"  Somewhere  about  the  heart  ! "  said 
John  Harvard.  "  It's  of  no  consequence  ; 
I  often  have  them.  That  is,  it's  of  a 
great  deal  of  consequence,  but  no  matter  ! " 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Mary.  "  I  thought  per 
haps  it  was  a  pin !  " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"QUE    LES    BEAUX   JOURS    SONT   COURTS." 

THE  next  morning  was  Sunday.  The 
mail  schooner  had  come  in  late  the 
night  before,  and  a  little  pile  of  letters 
lay  by  each  plate  on  the  breakfast-table. 
John  Harvard  opened  his,  and  gloomed 
black  as  thunder.  Mary  opened  hers, 
and  sighed.  Last,  Mrs.  Treherne,  after 
pouring  out  the  coffee,  and  presuming 
that  the  drop-cakes  were  not  fit  to  eat, 
turned  to  her  own  budget,  and,  reading 
one,  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"  I  declare,  I'm  sorry  !  "  she  said.  "  'Tis 
time,  to  be  sure,  but  I  surely  am  sorry." 
Then,  as  the  others  looked  up  in  wonder 
—  "  My  first  batch  of  boarders  comes  day 
after  to-morrow  ! "  she  said. 
98 


LES    BEAUX    JOURS.  99 

"  Well,  that's  some  comfort !  "  said  John 
Harvard.  Mrs.  Treherne  looked  at  him 
open-eyed,  and  he  added,  quickly : 

"  I  have  just  heard  that  they  are  com 
ing  for  me  to-morrow.  An  awful  bore 
—  but  if  a  lot  of  people  are  com 
ing - 

"  I  have  my  summons,  too  ! "  said 
Mary,  looking  up  with  heightened  colour. 
"  My  father  is  coming  to  New  York,  and 
wants  me  to  meet  him  there.  I  must  go 
back  by  Tuesday's  boat." 

A  blank  silence  fell  on  them  all ;  then 
Mrs.  Treherne  heard  the  kettle  boiling 
over,  or  said  she  did,  and  went  into  the 
kitchen. 

"  You  are  not  eating  any  breakfast !  " 
said  Mary,  presently.  There  was  a  new 
note  in  her  voice  —  half  timid,  half  play 
ful  —  that  brought  back  the  pain  to  John 
Harvard's  heart,  violently. 

"  No  more  are  you  !  "  he  said. 

Then  they  laughed,  and  being  hungry 
and  sensible,  ate  their  breakfast ;  and 


IOO  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

then  they  went  out  on  the  verandah  and  *• 
looked  about  them. 

It  was  a  perfect  morning.  The  sea  was 
blue  as  sapphire;  the  little  harbour  was 
dotted  with  sails,  where  the  fishermen 
were  starting  out  for  their  day's  trip ; 
Toluma  towered  opposite,  black  against 
the  glowing  sky,  yet  gay  here  and  there 
with  June  flowers.  Directly  below  them 
spread  the  white  beach,  and  the  rocks  on 
either  hand,  tricked  with  orange  and  rose-  • 
coloured  lichens ;  while  behind,  and  to 
right  and  left,  the  downs  rolled  up  and 
away,  green  and  shining,  crowned  with 
their  sombre  woods. 

The  old  house,  square  and  gray  and 
weatherbeaten,  stood  like  a  friend  beside 
them.  How  happy  they  had  been  !  How 
could  they  go  away  and  leave  it  all  ? 

"  Poor  old  Influence  !  "  said  Mary,  lay 
ing  her  hand  on  the  mossy  door-post.  "  It 
has  been  a  happy  place  for  me,  surely  ! " 

John  Harvard  said  nothing,  only  stood 
aside  and  looked  at  her.  Her  eyes  were 


LES    BEAUX    JOURS.  IOI 

quite  the  colour  of  the  sea,  he  thought,  only 
softer  ;  altogether  she  was  the  loveliest 
thing  he  had  ever  seen,  but  he  was  not 
sure  that  she  would  care  to  be  told  so. 

"  Come  away !  "  he  said,  at  last.  "  Let 
us  have  one  last  day  that  shall  be 
perfection.  Let  us  come  to  all  the 
places ! " 

He  did  not  explain  what  places,  but 
Mary  seemed  to  know,  and  followed  him 
without  a  word. 

They  turned  to  the  left,  and  took  their 
way  over  the  rocks  towards  the  yew-hol 
low.  The  sun  shone  down  into  it,  waking 
the  warm  fragrance  into  life ;  little  birds 
flew  up  from  the  yew,  where  they  had 
been  breakfasting  on  the  gray-blue  berries ; 
a  snake,  green  as  emerald,  rippled  away 
through  the  rushes. 

"  This  was  the  second  time  I  saw  you  !  " 
said  the  young  man.  "  The  first  was  just 
for  a  minute  on  the  piazza.  I  say  !  Do 
you  know,  I  was  awfully  put  out  when  I 
found  you  were  here." 


IO2  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

"So  was  I!"  said  Mary.     "Perfectly'-*, 
furious,  when  I  found  you  were  here  !  " 

"  So  I  inferred !  "  said  John  Harvard, 
dryly.  "  Then  I  came  up  here,  that  morn 
ing,  and  you  were  asleep." 

"  And  you  were  smoking  !  "  said  Mary. 

"  Ah !  you  woke  up,  then,  when  the 
stone  rattled  ?  Well,  I  wondered  how  girls 
of  sixteen  knew  enough  to  go  to  college." 

"  I  am  twenty  !  "  said  Mary,  demurely. 

"Well,   of  course,   when    I  found   out     '- 
what  a  lot  you  knew  —  "  said  John  Har 
vard  ;    "  well,  anyhow,  I  wondered  —  do 
you  mind  if  I  say  it  ?     I  wondered  if  you 
were  as  pretty  awake  as  you  were  asleep." 

"  And  was  I  ?  "  asked  Mary,  laughing. 

"  I  don't  know  !  "  said  John  Harvard, 
wickedly.  "  You  wouldn't  let  me  turn 
round.  That  was  the  next  time,  when  — 

"  Don't !  "  cried  Mary,  blushing  scarlet, 
and  springing  up  from  her  seat  on  the 
yew-bed.  "  I  don't  care  to  recall  that 
time,  sir !  You  took  me  for  a  sheep, 
you  may  remember." 


LES    BEAUX    JOURS.  IO3 

"  I  know  I  was  an  ass  !  "  said  the  young 
man,  meekly.  "  Quite  an  Animals'  Fair 
between  us,  don't  you  think  ?  And  then 
—  the  next  time  —  for  I  don't  count  the 
times  you  whisked  by  me  in  the  house, 
with  your  head  in  the  air  —  the  next  time 
was  in  the  Black  Woods.  That  was  — 
quite  a  time  !  Shall  we  go  there,  —  Miss 
Smith  ? " 

"  No,  Mr.  Harvard,  we  shall  not !  And 
it  would  be  a  pity  for  you  to  be  imperti 
nent  on  our  last  day.  We  will  go  to  Black 
Head,  and  to  Gull  Rock,  and  to  all  the 
dear,  dear  pools  and  dikes  and  precipices. 
And  as  we  go, —  since  you  are  so  fond  of 
reminiscences,  —  I  can  remind  you  of  the 
baby  and  the  pin." 

"  Don't !  "  cried  the  youth,  in  his  turn. 
"  I  call  a  truce  !  and  how  could  I  be  sup 
posed  to  know  ? " 

"  But  you  may  sing  '  Toreador ' !  "  said 
Mary,  with  no  special  relevance. 

"  There  is  another  song  that  I  like  bet 
ter  now !  "  said  John  Harvard.  "  I  have 


IO4  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

been  singing  it  to  myself  ever  since  — 
that  is,  for  some  time.  May  I  sing  it  to 
you  ? " 

Of  course  he  could,  and  did. 

"  Quand  j'ai  vu  Madeline 
Pour  la  premiere  fois  — 

His  voice  thrilled  deep  and  sweet  on 
the  quiet  air,  and  there  was  something  in 
it  that  made  Mary's  heart  beat  fast,  and 
made  her  feel  that  it  was  safer  for  her  to 
look  out  to  sea,  or  down  at  the  rocks,  or 
anywhere  save  up  at  the  brown  eyes  that 
she  knew  were  bent  on  her  as  the  lad  sang. 

Ah !  that  was  a  day  !  Nature  seemed 
to  know  all  about  it.  The  sea  laughed 
and  dimpled  all  over  with  happy  lights. 
The  sun  winked  and  twinkled  with  merri 
ment.  The  brown  old  rocks  smiled,  and 
made  themselves  as  soft  and  comfort 
able  as  their  nature  allowed ;  the  ripples 
lapped  softly  in  the  chasms,  the  breeze 
came  like  a  kiss.  Ah !  that  was  a  day  ! 

And  when  it  was  over;  when  the  blaz 
ing  gold  had  gathered  itself  into  one 


LES    BEAUX    JOURS. 

splendid  glory  over  the  black  head  of  To- 
luma,  and  the  sea  was  deepening  into 
purple,  and  the  rosy  shades  were  soften 
ing  to  amethyst  and  gray  and  nameless 
hues  of  harmony  and  rest,  these  two 
young  people  sat  together  on  the  veran 
dah  of  the  Influence,  and  watched  the 
lovely  pomp,  and  saw  the  world  that  it 
was  very  good.  They  had  just  come 
from  the  early  evening  service  in  the 
chapel,  a  service  so  sweet,  so  earnest  and 
simple,  that  their  hearts  were  full.  The 
melody  of  the  closing  hymn  was  ringing 
in  their  ears,  and  Mary  repeated  the 
words  softly : 

"  God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again !  " 

"  And  when  will  that  be  ?  "  asked  John 
Harvard,  in  a  low  voice,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  golden  west. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Mary,  and  her  voice  tried 
to  be  light  and  cheery ;  "  who  can  tell  ? 
We  shall  surely  meet,  for  have  we  not  re 
solved  to  be  friends  always  ?  Perhaps  it 
may  be  here  again,  our  next  meeting.  I 


IO6  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

shall  come  again,  whenever  it  is  possible.' 
You  know  I  come  of  island  people.  My 
name  —  "  she  laughed.  "  How  silly  I 
have  been!  But  of  course  you  have 
heard  it  from  Mrs.  Treherne.  My  name 
is  Mary  Weymouth.  My  people  came 
from  here.  Indeed,  I  have  always  liked 
to  think  that  we  are  descended  from  Cap 
tain  Weymouth  of  the  Archangel,  the 
first  white  man  who  ever  saw  this  beloved 
island  of  ours." 

"  Oh !  if  you  come  to  that,"  said  the 
young  man,  "  my  name  is  John  Rosier, 
and  my  ancestor  came  on  the  Archangel, 
too." 

"  What !  "  cried  Mary.  "  James  Rosier, 
gentleman,  who  wrote  the  story  of  the 
great  voyage  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Harvard,  you 
don't  really  —  no !  You  are  making  fun 
of  me.  It  would  be  too  good  to  be  true." 

"  Fact,  I  assure  you ! "  said  the  young 
man.  "  Ask  Mrs.  Treherne  else  !  Do 
you  mean  to  say  she  hasn't  told  you  all 
this?" 


LES    BEAUX    JOURS.  IO/ 

"I  —  wouldn't  let  her  ! "  said  Mary,  in 
a  small  voice. 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment;  then 
added : 

"  And  for  us  to  meet  here,  —  how  very, 

very  strange  !     But  —  of   course,  this    is 

most  delightful  and  astonishing,  and  all, 

—  but  —  I  am  almost  sorry  that  you  are 

not  John  Harvard  after  all !  " 

'•  I  am  John !  "  said  the  young  man. 

They  were  silent  again.  Then,  under 
the  soft,  gray  twilight,  he  put  out  his 
hand,  and  took  the  girl's  hand,  and  held 
it  in  his  strong,  warm  clasp. 

"  Mary  !  "  he  said,  and  his  deep  voice 
trembled  a  little.  "  Mary,  dear,  the  old 
'  Influence'  has  justified  its  name,  has  it 
not  ?  I  - —  I  don't  know  how  it  may  be 
with  you,  but  you  fill  my  heart  and  my 
life ;  there  is  no  one  else  in  the  world  for 
me.  See,  dear  !  Our  ancestors  - —  those 
old  beggars  —  came  a  long  way  together, 
and  found  this  island,  the  best  place  in 
the  world,  I  —  " 


IO8  LOVE    AND    ROCKS. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  whispered  Mary. 

"  And  —  they  were  rather  a  set  of  ras 
cals,  I  believe,  but  still  it  was  a  great 
thing  they  did,  and  I  shall  bless  them  for 
it  as  long  as  I  live.  Mary,  dear,  shall  we 
follow  where  they  led  the  way  ?  Shall 
we  take  our  voyage  together  ? " 

He  bent  his  head  over  the  slender 
hand.  The  shadows  gathered  deeper ; 
the  violet  dusk  came  softly  over  the  earth 
and  wrapped  her  mantle  round  the  lovers. 

Presently  Mrs.  Treherne  came  to  see 
why  her  boarders  did  not  heed  the  tea- 
bell  ;  but  after  peeping  through  the  parlour 
blinds  for  a  moment,  she  went  back  again, 
and  sat  down  in  the  rocking-chair,  and 
rocked  to  and  fro,  and  cried  with  pleas 
ure. 

"It  shall  be  called  the  'Influence,'" 
she  said ;  "  and  the  '  Landlady's  De 
light  ! ' " 

THE    END. 


Date  Due 


PRINTED   IN    U.S.A.  CAT.      NO.      24       161 


000  550 


610    „• 


